


Heat

by Aine Llewellyn (Mapon)



Category: Otherfaith Religion & Lore
Genre: Companionship, Gen, Hell Month, Multi, Murder, Not Really Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Violent Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-04-12 22:11:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4496643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mapon/pseuds/Aine%20Llewellyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the Ophelene didn't think she'd ever actually kill <i>Alynah Blake</i>, but accidents happen. That it happened to occur right as Hell Month came in, well, she should expect that by now. That Alynah had a Companion was just icing on everything else in her wonderful bloody cake. She knows everything is going to get a lot worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_**July 1st, 0630** _

the Ophelene had never felt more awkward during a round table. The instant she stepped in the room, the Laethelia at her side, everyone fell silent. Lilibell stopped muttering to her twin. Desiree stilled in her endless shuffling of papers.

“Where’s the Darren?” Desiree sighed out. the Ophelene shook her head.

“We didn’t come with him,” she answered. the Laethelia nodded passively before taking her own seat. She murmured to Lilibell beside her, who shook her head politely.

“Yes, well,” Desiree continued, “we’re running late as is.”

“We’re not even allowed to enter here until you’ve all sat down,” the Laethelia pointed out. the Ophelene gingerly took a seat to her left.

“Anyway,” Desiree said. “Welcome to Hell Month. As usual,” her voice was acidic, “the gods will be away until the Dierne’s apotheosis. Let’s do our best to keep the place running.”

“We’re gods, for fuck’s sake,” the Laethelia said under her breath. Everyone pretended not to hear.

Desiree turned her weary gaze to the Ophelene. The woman really was ill-suited for the job of watching over the whole West. Every Hell Month Desiree’s steely eyes grew bags under them and her skin turned sallow. By the end she could barely move. But she took the Clarene’s seat every year, despite it all.

“You killed Alynah Blake,” Desiree announced. the Ophelene tried not to wince. Lilibell and Althea were _in the room_. She doubted they wanted to hear about the murder of their daughter. Even if their familial love was icy.

“I’m not sure whether to thank you or not,” Lilibell said, meeting the Ophelene’s eyes.

Well then.

“Not,” Desiree quipped. “The force of chaos has been killed. Now we get to deal with whatever decides to take her place.” Desiree sighed deeply. It was the most common sound she made during Hell Month. Probably during other months too. “At least the Laethas are all tied up in their Red Mansion. If one of them stepped into her position…”

the Ophelene set her hand on the table. “We still have to deal with her Companion,” she interrupted. “We didn’t even know she _had_  one. And any Companion of hers…”

“Is going to be even stronger than Alynah,” Desiree finished. “We’re aware. We’re looking.” She peered at her files. “Ideally, you’ll take out the Companion too.”

the Ophelene crushed her fists onto her thighs, crushing the desire to hit Desiree with them.

As if she wanted to kill Alynah. If the girl had just dodged like she always did during their yearly sparring match. They’d fought so many times, dancing the same dance. Except Alynah had misstepped, and the Ophelene hadn’t been able to stop her sword as it bit into the rabbit leader’s flesh.

“I hardly think my sister meant to kill her,” the Laethelia said, voice like a winter’s day.

“That doesn’t matter,” Desiree said, waving her hand.

the Ophelene glanced down, and her sister’s hands were bleeding blue blood all over her dress. The god could hardly restrain herself, seafoam scents drifting from her dangerously, her eyes turning pale. the Ophelene touched her waist softly, and the almost crackling energy faded. If the Laethelia actually struck Desiree the West would fall into more turmoil than it already was.

Memories swirled around her. Alynah’s blood had been bright red. the Ophelene had cradled her in her arms, tossing all her weapons away and trying to save something, anything, of the giant spirit she’d struck down.

(That was when she’d noticed the black symbol on Alynah’s wrist. The ever-watching eye stared out of the circular mark, crowned by devilish wings.

“You took a Companion?” Ophelene had breathed, horrified. Alynah laughed.

“Yeah,” she slurred, eyes drooping and blood gurgling from her throat. “Good fucking luck,” had been her last words.)

the Ophelene still didn’t know what Alynah had meant by that.

“Her Companion is probably like Ava,” Desiree said, snapping Ophelene back to the dome-topped room. “Small, magically powerful, bloodthirsty.”

Mallory, sitting quietly in the Ophelia’s seat, rolled her eyes.

“What do you think, Mallory?” Lilibell prompted.

Mallory began signing delicately.

the Laethelia leaned toward her sister. “She’s calling all of us oblivious.”

“So you know who her Companion is?” Lilibell pushed.

Mallory shook her head.

“Helpful,” Desiree mumbled. Mallory tossed her a blank stare. “Althea, do you have anything to add? It’s better if we find the Companion quickly. They might decide to fill Alynah’s role otherwise.”

“What will we do when we find Alynah’s Companion?” the red-headed fire spirit asked.

“Kill them, like I said,” Desiree answered nonchalantly. “Alynah was barely under control. Her Companion is definitely a danger that we can’t afford.”

She was too distracted by her files full of calculations to notice the Ophelene stand and leave, her stride stiff.

_**July 2nd, 0900** _

“You don’t have to do it,” Lilibell said the next day, sitting atop the fence that surrounded one of the training grounds at the Ophelene’s barracks. Ophelene simply motioned for one of her trainee’s to attack again. He was attempting to disarm her. He couldn’t get the movement right, consistently trapping his own arm. She’d nearly snapped his elbow at one point.

“Ignore what Desiree says. She’s just thinking with numbers.”

“She’s thinking with logic,” the Ophelene grunted. She easily disarmed her opponent. “Leon,” she addressed her trainee, “the movement, not the muscle. You’re not stronger than me. It’s in the movement.” Leon nodded, strands of hair loose from his ponytail falling in his eyes. She demonstrated the movement again, slow and steady. He repeated it, mastering the move when they practiced but not when they actually fought.

“Besides,” the Ophelene continued at Lilibell, “”she’s right. Companionship is when a giant accepts the disastrous magic of another spirit. A more _violent_  spirit.” Leon danced toward her, finally ceasing his ridiculous charges, clanging his sword against hers. He almost caught her off guard, her swing off course, but she recovered too quickly and struck his sword back. “Enough,” she told him. “Go clean off.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, bowing.

“You’re improving,” she offered. She turned sharply to Lilibell once her student was out of sight. The star spirit held out a towel, and Ophelene eagerly wiped off her sweat.

“About Companions,” Lilibell prompted.

The god breathed heavily. “Alynah’s one of the strongest spirits. Any Companion she took had to be stronger.”

Lilibell vanished the towel from the Ophelene’s hands. “Not strong enough to be on anyone’s radar before Alynah swept him up.” Lilibell hummed. “Maybe she took him for the sex. You know the rumors.”

“Disgusting,” the Ophelene choked out. “Erann and the others would never sleep with their Companions. They’re practically children.” Her eyes narrowed. “You said he. What makes you think the Companion’s male?”

“As if my daughter would defile a girl-spirit like that,” Lilibell scoffed. “Regardless of what the other giants do or don’t, Alynah would not have made that pact without sex. I’m surprised the Dierne didn’t smell something foul on her.”

the Ophelene clenched her jaw. “Alynah wouldn’t go that far, Lilibell.”

“It’d have to be one of the Laetha’s boys,” Lilibell mused, easily brushing off what she’d accused her daughter of. “Maybe one of the Blake boys.”

the Ophelene laughed. “They’re hardly threatening.”

“They’re Aster’s descendants,” Lilibell countered. “No one thought _he_  was threatening til he split his sister in half. And killed his lover. And summoned a sword of destruction. And burnt down half of the Hospital.”

“Okay,” the Ophelene grit out. “But none of them have shown abnormal magic.”

“Apart from the original Blake.”

“No one’s seen the _original_  Blake for years, Lilibell,” the Ophelene said, leaning against the fence next to her company.

“Say,” Lilibell shifted, staring at the blue expanse of sky. “When you find him, will you kill him?”

The god didn’t answer.

“You don’t have to,” Lilibell repeated.

“I might,” Ophelene answered.

**_July 2nd, 1300_ **

There were a few spirits to talk with before she approached the Blakes. The line hadn’t sprung out of nothing. Even the first Blake. the Ophelene knew exactly who she’d sprung from, though that wasn’t as important as who she’d known.

Althea was first. Lilibell had directed the Ophelene toward the Blakes, but she obviously thought the unknown Companion should live. the Ophelene wasn’t decided, even if her palms grew sweaty at the thought of another murder.

(”Execution,” the Darren had corrected her once. “Retribution.”

“What would you know of retribution?” she’d snapped.

“More than you, apparently.”)

Althea lived alone. Normally she kept to a small room in the Red Mansion, but Hell Month saw her roosting in a lavish estate. A wrought-iron gate curved in protection over the wide walkway. Heavy flowers and trees hung over the brick wall, the scent of them invading the Ophelene’s senses.

“Are you sure you want to go alone?” Leon asked, shuffling beside the Ophelene.

She snorted. “The worst she’ll do is pray me to death.” She clapped her student on the shoulder. “Go explore the area. That’s why I brought you.”

He hesitated. “This is a housing district. There’s not much to explore.”

“Get a feel for the layout. You don’t know if you’ll end up fighting here one day.”

Leon nodded, walking away at both her tone and Althea’s approach. For such a powerful spirit, her energy was amazingly restrained, barely leaking out of her. Like a vague cinnamon smell. Her body was wrapped in a tight red dress with buttons down the top, no doubt a traditional Laethic outfit.

Althea stood inside the gate, pale eyes taking in the Ophelene.

“Esteemed god,” Althea greeted.

“Are there un-esteemed gods?” Ophelene joked.

“Yes,” Althea deadpanned.

“Oh.”

The spirit inclined her head, her wave of deep red hair falling over her shoulder. “What brings you to honor me with your presence?” she asked.

“A subject better discussed inside,” the Ophelene responded. Althea was practically hiding behind her home’s walls.

“You came well-armed for a mere discussion,” Althea said. She peered up from beneath her thick lashes. “Such a large sword, you brought.”

the Ophelene felt dirty, then. There was innuendo in Althea’s words. But she was right as well; the god had brought a large sword to her home. She was clad in armor, a purple cape draped over her back. All she lacked was a helmet.

“I don’t intend to harm you,” she assured Althea.

“Intention,” the spirit said, but she cut herself off and opened the gate. She raised her arm in greeting. “Welcome, honorable god.”

the Ophelene swallowed down a groan. An hour or more of Althea’s praises and she would scream. She always told her new trainees to not refer to her so reverently. But Althea was a daughter of the Firebird, a leader within the Laetha’s spirits. She would ‘honorable god’ Ophelene into the grave.

“Shall we go inside?” Althea offered after shutting her gate. The whole estate became silent to the outside world. An explosion of birdsong and gentle breeze filled the place in instead.

“Do you have a patio?” the Ophelene asked as sweetly as should could manage. Oh but if she could avoid the powerful incense in Althea’s home. She’d braved it once. Never again, if she could help it. Althea burned incense day and night at every wall shrine she kept. One for each of the Laethas. One too many.

“Of course,” Althea said. She waved the Ophelene toward the left, a trail of stone leading the way to a large clearing with spindly chairs and elegant tables. Food was already laid out, towers of treats and a teapot readily prepared. the Ophelene took a seat upon the chaise lounge, as comfortable as possible.

Althea poured her tea. Jasmine, like the last time she’d visited. The spirit pointedly waited for her to drink, so she took a small sip.

“I want to discuss the Blakes,” the Ophelene prompted.

Althea hummed. “You’ve already killed one of them.” the Ophelene flinched. “Will you continue with the others?”

“No!” Ophelene exclaimed. “I’m… Bloodsport is not under my dominion.”

“Then what do you want with them, great one?”

“Your sister suggested them,” Ophelene said. One of Althea’s perfectly painted eyebrows rose. “As possible Companions. Alynah was notorious for her behavior toward her relatives. Even you.”

“My daughter never took me to bed,” Althea responded, voice perfectly devoid of inflection as always. the Ophelene’s mouth turned dry. She would rather avoid thoughts of Alynah and her uncles engaged. “Either way, she was always trying to injure them in some way or another. She detests men, it would seem.” Althea sipped her tea, taking longer than usual.

“Would any of the Blakes be strong enough for Companionship?” the Ophelene pressed.

Althea set her cup on the table with a clack. “With respect, oh lord, I am not sure the Companion matters.”

Ophelene frowned and leaned forward. “Why not? If there’s a spirit stronger than Alynah, bound to her, they may wreak havoc on the West. With Alynah dead there’s nothing to hold them back.”

Althea ran her fingers along the top of her cup. “Alynah was born on Reunion,” she said. “Blake was there for it.” Her jaw jutted out for a moment. “Unpleasant things can be born at that time.”

“Meaning?”

“I suspect whatever new force we await,” she answered, “is from that time. You surely felt the change, oh Ophelene.”

The god flushed. She hadn’t. Reunion was still such a strange time, full of bright lights and snow and music. All the spirits dancing and cuddled up in their huge jackets, the Courts reunited just as the gods were. There were no lovers for the Ophelene to reunite with. She flushed deeper at the thought.

“Your killing of Alynah was no accident,” Althea said firmly. “No death of such a great spirit is.”

“What do you think is coming, to fill her place?” Ophelene asked, ceasing to breathe.

Althea’s fingers tapped harshly against the table now. “Some unpleasant…creature, no doubt.” Her eyes had become dark, crimson red. Her teeth almost stood out against her tightly drawn lips. “Though I’ve no prophecy to back me.” Her face relaxed and her eyes faded to white. “Esteemed one,” she bowed her head.

“Whatever comes,” Ophelene said, steel in her tone, “I will deal with it.”

“As you will, great god,” Althea said. She stood, an obvious sign that the conversation had ended. the Ophelene was surprised the girl even had the ability to act without a god prompting her.

At the gate, before Althea shut the world out once again, she spoke. “I may advise that you speak with Aster. He may know more than I, on all the spirits you seek.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing this story after a vivid image of the Ophelene slicing Alynah in half. I don't see the Ophelene as particularly _enjoying_ her role as a god of retribution, what with the killing at all. She mostly just does it cause she's got to. 
> 
> I later developed the concept of Alynah's death as the provocation for the Liathane/Eighth God's appearance in the West. So while the Ophelene is trying to find the Companion to Alynah she's also dealing with the Liathane's appearance as well as Desiree's (the Clarene's right hand) insistence that she take down the Eighth God.
> 
> In later chapters I'll highlight how young the Ophelene is, at least compared to other spirits. Desiree has a tendency to treat her and the Laethelia very dismissively, since the later gods haven't been around 'as long', even though they're all much more powerful. Other spirits view them as unworthing of their divinity or as simply too young to be of much effect.


	2. Chapter 2

**_July 3rd, 1500_ **

She had made sure to come unarmed when she visited Aster. His apartment was located in the southern technology district, a slow smoggy part of the City. The sidewalk was a ruddy grey and storefronts hawked electronics instead of fruit. There were no sweet blossoms like Althea’s street carried; there was certainly no blue sky to gaze upon.

Aster’s complex arched into the sky, the brick building shoved between two nondescript towers.

“Oh, those are server farms,” Leon explained as the Ophelene stared quizzically at the towers. He waved cheerily at a few passerby. “You’ve never been down here?”

“No,” the Ophelene answered. “I prefer, uh. Different types of steel.”

Leon laughed a bit, behind his hand, as they entered Aster’s apartment. Above the lobby elevator hung a heavily graffiti’d sign. A small gaggle of teenagers lounged in the common area, the sounds of their game systems filling the space. One of the teens glanced up harshly as they entered, her purple eyes narrowing to slits. She somersaulted over the couch to greet them.

“Hey ma’am, hey ma’am,” she said, sliding in front of the Ophelene. Two reptilian tails flicked around her, and she let her forked tongue loll out easily. A thin black handheld system dangled from her claws. “What ya here for?”

the Ophelene didn’t respond.

“It’s okay,” Leon soothed. “We’re here to see Aster. He home today?”

The reptilian girl tilted her chin up. “He is, but what’s the god of justice want with him?”

“I want to speak with him,” the Ophelene answered.

The girl snorted softly. “Sure. He’s probably asleep though. Have fun.” She returned to the common area, flopping onto one of the couches and turning on her game.

“Who are they?” the Ophelene asked as they entered the elevator. Leon pressed for Aster’s floor, the doors closing with a dull ding.

“The doormen,” Leon replied. “Nobody beats teenagers at posturing.”

the Ophelene glanced at the graffiti on the elevator walls. One showed what was undeniably the Laetha Ava, crowned in mushrooms and blood and haloed in white rays of light. Another painting was the Ophelia stabbing herself with a dark sword, her hair like water flowing against the wall. the Ophelene was reminded sharply of the murals in the many temples of the City and Orchard.

The door clanked open, and Leon lead the way to Aster’s door. the Ophelene tapped her foot and bit her cheek.

“You should head back downstairs. I’ll talk to Aster,” she said firmly.

Leon nodded. He paused before the elevator, his shoulders tensing.

“You,” he started, but his voice trailed away. He swallowed thickly. “Good luck.”

the Ophelene knocked on Aster’s door, stiffly, and waited for the man to arrive. There were muffled sounds throughout the hallway, scuffling as people moved about their homes. A cough broke the noise. Ophelene raised her hand to knock again.

From the other side of the thin door came the loud thunk of footsteps.

“Hold on,” came Aster’s muffled voice. There was another sharp cough. the Ophelene caught the smell of sulfur and smoke. A moment later Aster swung open the door. Boxers hung loosely from his bony hips, and a cigarette hung just as loosely from his chapped, parted lips.

“Oh fuck,” he said.

“Be not afraid,” was the Ophelene’s paltry attempt at humor. Aster leaned half-awake on his door frame, squinting at her words. He inhaled suddenly and glared. He seemed ready to spit the cigarette in her face.

“Fuck y-” he started.

“I actually do need to talk to you.”

Aster eyed her. She was in plain clothes, jeans and a t-shirt, and she became conscious of how large she was. Aster was stick-like, a starving little thing. She could count his ribs if she wanted. The white smoke drifting around him had more substance.

“Coffee first,” he announced. He left the door open as he shuffled back in. “Let me change too,” he said once the pot was on.

“There’s no need,” the Ophelene assured. She’d seen plenty of naked men after all. It was part of running the barracks.

“I’m going to change,” Aster repeated.

As Aster shut his bedroom door, the Ophelene couldn’t help but be glad for his irreverence. Althea was too strong, too pious. One of those types to cut off her arm if the Laetha asked for it.

Aster’s apartment was just as different from Althea’s cushy villa. His kitchen was cramped and dirty, unwashed dishes in the sink and stains on the laminate flooring. He had one small table with two rickety chairs. The only room apart from Aster’s bedroom seemed to be, upon quick inspection, a crowded office with at least two - no, three computers perched on various makeshift desks. A small framed picture showed Aster and his sister. They were both smiling.

the Ophelene jerked back from the office as Aster re-entered the kitchen-living room. His cigarette was gone, but he immediately patted his jeans until he pulled out a pack. A tiny logo of the Firebird flashed from the front of the box. He put one, unlit, in his mouth as he pulled out mugs. He shoved a pair of thick glasses laying on the counter onto his face.

“Coffee, coffee, coffee,” he sang. He poured the god a cup as well. “Our savior: coffee.”

It was infinitely better than tea. the Ophelene rejected any cream or sugar and held back a grimace as Aster poured half a carton of milk into his own cup. The spirit downed it all in one chug and returned his cigarette to his mouth.

“I’m going to smoke,” he told the god, as if his home didn’t already reek of it. the Ophelene nodded. With a twitch of his nose, he lit his cigarette. The fragrant smoke swirled into birds and playful animals that danced around the room. the Ophelene blew one into nonexistence before it could run into her nose.

“What can I help you with?” Aster said as he filled his second cup.

“The Blakes,” Ophelene said.

Aster released some foul combination of sigh and groan. The smoke creatures around them danced unfazed. “I’d tell you to go to the original Blake, but I don’t think she’s quite the talkative sort anymore. Who’s the head now? Aithne? Or something?”

“You don’t know your own children’s names?” the Ophelene said, her tone sportive despite her efforts.

Aster blew out a long line of smoke. “ _Descendants_.”

“Aster,” she warned.

The redhead almost rolled his eyes as he pushed his glasses up his face. His mouth was twisted into a scribbled line. “Alright. I get it. What is it you want to know?”

“Where do the Blakes come from?”

“A line from a line,” Aster replied. He stamped out his cigarette into an ash tray - the smoke animals writhed before exploding into nothingness - and got a third cup of coffee. He refilled the Ophelene’s as well. “What you call the Verzsou Red line. They don’t call themselves that, of course.”

“They’re the ones from the Temple of the Fathers?” the Ophelene pressed. She’s heard stories of the isolated Temple but had no reason to travel there before. The members of the Temple kept to themselves.

“Yeah. Blake came to the West and decided to stay.” Aster stood and stretched his legs. He cracked his neck as he went to lean against the counter. The floor creaked.

the Ophelene tapped her fingers against the table. Her eyes narrowed just past Aster. His bedroom door was cracked enough she could see a small shrine. Candles decorated its surface, but she couldn’t see any statuary. She hadn’t expected the spirit to have any religious paraphernalia.

“The Blakes don’t look like the other elves at the Temple,” she mused.

Aster nodded. “Blake did. Flat face and everything,” he said, waving his hand over his own face. “Hair twice as long as she was tall.” He snorted around a sip of coffee. “Fucking ridiculous.”

the Ophelene dragged her gaze away from Aster’s bedroom. The man was staring sulkily into his mug. With a sharp inhale, he met the god’s gaze and nodded firmly.

“Shall we go out for food? I don’t have much here.”

“There’s no need.”

“I insist,” Aster said quietly. He disappeared into his bedroom closet, giving the Ophelene clear view of the room. There was a pile of blankets and pillows on the floor, no mattress or proper bed in sight. Bottled fairy lights hung from the ceiling. A huge painting of the Ophelia hung from one wall, the same wall the shrine was situated against. There was another picture frame sitting on a suspiciously clean table tucked into the corner. The whole Blake family, Alynah included, were huddled together. Alynah had her arms swung around Abel and Aeron, each man’s face contorted in their own distinct discomfort.

Aster returned from the closet with two scarves and jackets, one obviously too large for the tiny spirit.

Well, tiny compared to the Ophelene. The boy was the child of the Firebird and stood tall. She just stood taller.

“Here.” Aster offered the jacket and one of the scarves - a deep purple, plush thing - to the god. “It’s going to be cold out.”

the Ophelene held the jacket up awkwardly. It was a light grey with silver accents. She glanced to Aster’s own clothing. Bright greens and golds stood out from his scarf.

“How odd. In my coloring and style,” she commented.

“I can change it back,” Aster said. He shoved his feet into thick boots before opening the door. “Shall we?”

the Ophelene didn’t put the jacket on until the air outside the apartment hit them. Aster laughed behind his hand as she tensed and hurriedly donned the warmer clothing. The god glared at the sky and the snow falling in heaps to the ground.

“We keep it cold in this district,” Aster explained. He held out a palm, and the snow sizzled into steam before hitting him. The heat of his breath looked like fire pouring from his mouth.

“Well. Lead the way,” the Ophelene said. She wrapped the scarf around her face, pulling her thick braids out from under it. Aster set a brisk pace deeper into the city. The buildings grew taller and the sky grew darker. Windows shown bright with lights. Deep, thumping music radiated from beneath the sidewalk. Aster stood out against the darkness like a will-o-wisp. His tan skin was glowing like the sun had settled not behind the horizon but in him. It was only when she noticed passerby staring at her that the Ophelene realized she was glowing too.

“You look like the moon,” Aster said. He smiled at the god’s unamused exhale.

“Are we close to that restaurant of yours?” she asked.

Aster nodded and pointed to a building adorned with neon blinking signs. A large crowd was gathered outside. As they drew closer, the Ophelene realized that underneath the chatter was a soft hum. The smell of metal and oil filled her nose enough to make her gag.

There wasn’t a member of the crowd that didn’t have some mechanical addition to their body. And some, she was sure, were completely robotic. She had seen plenty of cyborgs and robots before in the city, but the concentration of them here was far beyond anything she’d known. Bright white bubbles popped over the heads of some of the spirits. They contained writing the Ophelene only vaguely understood. Emojis filled the text bubbles to the point of obnoxiousness.

“Hey everyone,” Aster called. A hologram of a keyboard appeared in front of his hands with a sharp snap of his fingers. In a flash he’d typed a message and sent it into the clouds of text.

“Aster!” some cried. The sound of his name was soon drowned out by more voices calling out, “Holy Ophelene!” The god stepped back instinctively, shoulders rising and stance firming, as the crowd turned toward her. A few people bowed reverently.

“God of justice,” chirped a few voices. “The sword and the shield,” others praised. the Ophelene ground her teeth. Text bubbles - even more crowded with emojis and cute faces - practically exploded in devotional furor.

“There’s no need,” the Ophelene said. She held up her hands pleadingly.

“We’re here to get dinner, not get mobbed,” Aster said loudly. A few of the mechanical canines in the crowd whined. “Great first impression of the Tech District, guys,” he grumbled.

the Ophelene didn’t make eye contact with any of the spirits as Aster ushered her into the building. The outside noise cut out as the glass doors shut. The visual noise was just as bad inside - signs flashing with directions, multicolored lights adorning every available wall and strip of ceiling. All the grey of the streets of the Technology District was replaced with painful rainbows.

“Headed straight forward,” Aster said. He rummaged in his messenger bag furiously. “Go ahead. Gotta find my card.”

“I can pay,” the Ophelene offered.

Aster laughed. “Not _that_ card. Don’t worry. I’ll catch up.”

With a small frown, the Ophelene began the trek through the building. Posters adorned the walls where lights let them. Logos of burgers with bulging eyes and huge meaty grins watched her, turning into pictures of cheery burrito boys and spaghetti monsters. She paused to read one of the advertisements for fancy drink. The same language the mechs used in their bubbles was scribbled on the poster. She knew the drink was some kind of ‘hot oil’, but the rest was a mystery.

Aster reached her as she saw the glass door to the cafeteria.

“Found it!” He brandished the card eagerly before swiping it through the reader beside the door.

“I didn’t realize you needed a card to get in,” the Ophelene said. “Is this a special club?”

“Nah. Or, kinda,” he said as he held the door open. “Everyone in this district gets a card. The rest of the building has more restricted areas.” Hundreds of tables filled the huge room. “You can choose where you want to sit. I’ll get the food.”

the Ophelene surveyed the available seats. There wasn’t a large amount of people, at least compared to the capacity of the room. A few spirits turned and spotted her, but no one rushed over to gush praise. She could vaguely hear mumblings of conversation. The space was clearly meant to be relaxing even when full.

She sat close to the entrance. Aster was busying himself with the buffet. Three plates hovered around him, lifted up with magic, another clasped in his hand. He heaped spoonfuls of food onto each of them before swishing his fingers toward the soda machine. He bounced to the Ophelene and set down the plates before her. She wasn’t able to speak before he had hopped off again, this time returning with a large pitcher of beer and a mug.

“There’s no need for all this,” the Ophelene protested.

“Half of this is for me,” Aster said with a sharp laugh. “Beer’s for you though. Good offering of booze and meat for the god before me and all.”

the Ophelene grabbed a turkey leg. “So reverent.”

Aster didn’t hesitate as he grabbed a handful of fried insects and tossed them into his mouth. “I’m as reverent as I need to be,” he said.

“So all this food is free?” the Ophelene asked. Her hand twitched above the plates. There was simply too much to choose from. “I’m surprised you’re so skinny.”

“I’m skinny because I’m skinny.”

the Ophelene hummed apologetically around a bite of pot pie. If she ended up eating well during this whole ordeal maybe investigating Alynah and the Blakes wouldn’t be so bad. The memory of her mission turned her mouth dry.

“About the Blakes,” she started.

“It’s not any of the girls,” Aster interrupted. He cracked a raw egg into his mouth. the Ophelene set her utensils down and shook her head, confused. “I know what you’re asking about,” Aster explained. “None of the girls were Alynah’s Companion.”

Her eyes widened. “Who told you?”

He shrugged. “A bird.” He leaned on the table and met the god’s eyes, all mirth gone from his face. “Look. Whoever the Companion is, if it’s one of the Blakes, it’s one of the boys.”

“And you’re close to one of them. Abel.”

“Yeah. ‘Close’. The kid hates me.” Aster blew away a stray hair falling from his ponytail. “I can’t help you. And there’s no guarantee Alynah actually fucked one of the Blake boys.”

the Ophelene crushed the table in her fist. “What is wrong with all of you?” she hissed under her breath.

“You’re kidding yourself if you think she didn’t sleep with her Companion. I’m not saying she’s horrible.”

“Yeah, you’re the first,” Ophelene muttered. She released the table, the metal groaning ominously. She gently flattened it back into shape, or as close to shape as it had been.

Aster was busy swallowing flaming pieces of meat down his eager throat. He blew a tiny flare out between his lips. “Alynah has a reputation, deserved and not. She’s just chaos, though.”

the Ophelene laughed openly. “You say that like chaos is just another day of the week.”

“Isn’t it?”

‘Isn’t it,’ the Ophelene thought as she walked through the district. Aster had returned home, Leon had returned to her side, and night was in full swing.

The music thumped beneath the sidewalk.

Robotic dogs ran happily through the streets.

A harsh wind smacked into her back, and the Ophelene held herself tight. Her heart pounded in her chest. She couldn’t breathe.

“Holy god?” Leon called, a yard ahead of her.

the Ophelene exhaled. The wind subsided. Her muscles loosened.

She walked home with Leon close to her, her mind clouded with thoughts of pale spirits and crimson blood splattered on her hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Months later, I finally put this out!
> 
> Here we see the Ophelene interacting with Aster Aira, one of a triad of spirits that are considered gods themselves by some spirits. In one of the original drafts of this chapter Aster points out he has more epithets and associations than the Ophelene does, which riles her up a fair bit. I axed that bit as I didn't feel the confrontation was necessary. Aster is one of my personal favorite spirits to write. He's got a lot going on but is pretty chill about most things.
> 
> The 'Tech District' that this chapter takes place in was rather unexpected for me. I knew that the apartment Aster lived in was run down, but as I explored this interaction I wondered why. Aster's specific apartment is a bit neglected because he's so focused on his job and working on his computers, and it flowed from there the general idea of the tech district. the Ophelene Herself (?) hails from the barracks and dorms near wild forests and mountains. She's not exactly at ease in most parts of the City and the tech district is even odder. 
> 
> I bring up language again in this chapter, like I did in the first. Part of that reflects my experiences and it's also because I like the variation and diversity. Especially when it comes to the robots and cyborgs and such in the West, they have ways of communicating that human-folk and even some of the gods don't really 'get'. The tech district is almost magical - well, everything is magical in a fairy land - in that one can think or tap a command and create what they wish. My imagery for the tech district and some magic in the West is probably influenced by 'Mahouka Koukou no Rettousei' (The Irregular at Magic High School) and its combination of magic and technology.


	3. Chapter 3

**July 4th, 0200**

the Ophelia held Ophelene up by her armpits. The god’s bony hands hurt, but Ophelene knew better than to complain. Her mother’s river was ruddy brown. If she struggled too much she’d fall in and taste blood.

“You need to take your sister,” the Ophelia said, thrusting Ophelene at Laethelia. Laethelia recoiled. Her body trembled. “Now!”

“Okay! Okay, okay,” Laethelia yelped. She was only a teenager, half the size she would be as an adult. She grabbed Ophelene, nestling her much more comfortably against her chest (holding her like a child should be held). Ophelene breathed in the scent of citrus. She pressed her face against her sister’s neck and hid from the world. A loud explosion rocked the land around them, and the smell of smoke overtook everything else.

“Go to the ocean,” the Ophelia commanded. Ophelene looked up briefly. Her mother was swirling her waters around herself, purging the blood from the liquid she summoned, and armor covered her body. 

Ophelene held onto her sister’s thin torso. She hid again as another explosion shook the ground beneath them. She whined. Laethelia looked down at her. Ophelene met her sister’s eyes, deep brown locking with iridescence. The older god nodded to herself.

With a whoosh, they were away from the Ophelia’s River. Pleasant waves sounded in Ophelene’s ears. The sun was setting on the sea. The firestorm it cast to the water was different than the firestorm further inland. The only smell here at the beach was seafoam and her sister, like lemons.

Laethelia collapsed, not releasing her younger sibling. Her whole body shook and shook, and her grip on Ophelene had turned painful. The pain was different than the Ophelia’s spiky fingers.

“I’ll protect you,” Laethelia prayed. “I’ll keep you safe. I’ll keep you safe.”

Another explosion sounded from beyond the mountains, and the gods felt the vibration. But it was distant and faint.

That night, when the Dierne finally struck down Mircea, Ophelene had been shielded by Laethelia’s rainbow hair. The other god’s voice rang out with songs – lullabies, shanties, hymns – but the Ophelene didn’t sleep. She simply looked at the other god.

“Remembering embarrassing things?” the Laethelia said. the Ophelene jerked away, aware she was watching the past rather than living it. The two adult gods hovered over the ocean waves. The fully-grown Laethelia was grinning cheekily.

“Did you find this embarrassing?” the Ophelene asked. A green-blue flush brushed over the Laethelia’s cheeks briefly. 

“I,” the Laethelia started. She choked and gulped down whatever words she had planned on. “It was so silly of me. You’re the protector, after all.”

the Ophelene frowned. “I’d barely been alive for more than a few…days, I suppose.” She returned her gaze to the scene of their past. “I wouldn’t get a sword in my hands just yet.”

Her sister muttered something hotly under her breath, but before the Ophelene could inquire about it the whole dream rattled. Instantly the Laethelia was gripping the Ophelene’s arm, tugging the younger god behind her. As if the danger was in front of them rather than all around. the Ophelene rolled her eyes, glad her sister couldn’t see, and summoned a long, dark sword. She yanked the Laethelia to her own chest and swung the sword around them. The dream world glimmered as the protective sphere activated.

Their world rattled once more, the sky falling in chunks. Their past selves glitched and flickered and then disappeared. 

“What’s going on?” the Ophelene asked. She kept her hand on the Laethelia’s hips, though she couldn’t get out of the sphere anyway.

A bright keyboard floated in front of the Laethelia. She tapped at it furiously, frown drawing at her lips. “I don’t know. Our minds are fine, but it’s not any of the usual invaders either.”

the Ophelene huffed. “Dream worlds,” she grumbled.

“Hush,” the Laethelia chided, hitting the keyboard with finality. The entire world flickered off, leaving them in darkness. “There. Whatever it was, it can’t get us now. You can drop the sphere.”

the Ophelene tapped the sphere with the hilt of her sword. It popped, tinkling like glass, and she quickly let her sister go, putting a few feet between them. the Laethelia, for her part, seemed unaffected. She was busy wrapping her hair into a ribbon and keeping it out of her face, her eyes narrowing at the screen as she investigated why the dream had broken down.

The younger god knew that even if she did look at the screen she wouldn’t have the first clue what it said. The only reason she even dreamed as she did was because the Laethelia had spun the magic around her. She’d promised it would help the Ophelene rest better, heal faster, think clearer. the Ophelene suspected she had mostly cast the magic so she could visit the Ophelene privately.

“El,” she called. Her sister tore her eyes away from her virtual screen. “Do you need me here?”

the Laethelia tilted her head quizzically before realizing the other god’s feelings. She waved the screen into nothingness. “No. No, I think I’m done for now. Let’s get out.”

the Ophelene was in the middle of conveying her gratitude when her consciousness slammed back into her bed, and she startled awake with a yelp. She tried to sit up, disoriented, but a weight across her hips held her down. She reached her hands out, her eyes still adjusting, and felt the dewy skin of her sister.

Her sister’s hands found her own and entwined their fingers. 

When the Ophelene could see again she quietly thanked the heavens that the Laethelia had the sense to clothe herself, even if all she wore was a nearly-sheer robe. the Laethelia was straddling the Ophelene, moonlight streaming in from the open window of the Ophelene’s bedroom. The sea god was illuminated from within and without. the Ophelene couldn’t breathe. 

“Sorry,” the Laethelia laughed. “I materialized where you were.” She leaned down, stretching out like a cat. “You’re comfy, though.”

the Ophelene kept her body stiff. She looked up at the ceiling. She breathed in and out, counting in her head, and she certainly did not take in the citrus scent of the other god. She flexed her fingers, waiting.

After an eternity, the Laethelia slipped off her and stood. Her bare feet made soft plapping sounds on the tile. Only when she was appropriately far away did the Ophelene sit up. the Laethelia’s face was obscured by her hair.

“Sorry,” she said again, but there was no laugh in her throat.

the Ophelene followed her sister in standing. She ran a hand over her body, her training clothes appearing with rustling sounds and replacing her sleepwear. “What happened to the dream?”

the Laethelia dithered.

“I’ll be out on the trail if you find out,” the Ophelene stated, finishing her stretches. She needed to run and sweat and get rid of the heat in her body. She caught the pained expression the Laethelia threw at her, but she ignored it and swept out of her bedroom and out of the barracks and into the woods. The moonlight was fading to dawn. Birds were chirping. Animals were rustling in the trees and bush. 

the Ophelene was not thinking about the Laethelia. She buried and drowned every single thought that tried to betray her. 

When she returned home, as the sun was finally above the horizon, her students were milling about with their morning duties. They waved to her, Leon breaking from the pack to fall in line beside her.

“the Laethelia is waiting in the dining hall,” he said hurriedly. The boy probably thought the Ophelene had no idea her sister was there. She gave Leon a gentle pat on the shoulder. 

“I know. Go back to the others. I’ll take care of everything.”

Leon shook his head. “Desiree is there too. I think they’re arguing.”

the Ophelene stiffened, even more than when the Laethelia had woken atop her. She informed Leon to remain outside and to keep the other students outside as well. No one was to enter back in until she’d sorted the situation out. She knew her sister, and she especially knew how her sister felt about Desiree.

When she stepped into the dining hall the room was humid and smelled of salt and fish. Desiree was standing on one of the long tables, her gaze impartial and bored, while the Laethelia seethed. Foamy waves ran off the god’s hair and lapped at the ground. The whole room was swamped with saltwater. 

“Ah, Ophelene,” Desiree greeted. She caught the spear of energy the Laethelia had shot toward her, crushing it in her fist. So they’d advanced to actual magical attacks. Wonderful. “I’m glad you’ve returned.” Not that she sounded glad. “I have need to speak with you.”

“You don’t just get to walk out of this!” Laethelia snapped. the Ophelene gripped her sister’s wrist, but the other god was unfazed. “How _dare_ you, how _dare_ you accuse me!”

“Stop!” the Ophelene yelled. Her sister jumped back, falling against her for the second time that day. Desire was walking steadily toward them, but she hadn’t jumped down from the table. “What are you doing?” she hissed at the Laethelia. 

“Overreacting, as usual,” Desiree quipped.

the Ophelene had to physically restrain her sister from pouncing on the Clarene’s Right Hand.

“Stop, now,” she intoned deeply. Both Desiree and Laethelia stilled. “I am not interested in refereeing you. Desiree, you can wait in my office.” The Right-Hand nodded, hopping down into the inch-deep water. She grimaced as she walked through the hall, but the Laethelia made no move to clean up the mess.

“Let go of me,” she said, tugging at the Ophelene’s grip. The god immediately released her. the Laethelia brushed her hair out, flinging it over her shoulder and strutting about the room.

“Can you clean this up, at least?” the Ophelene said with exasperation. “This is where we eat.”

the Laethelia didn’t respond except to hold up her hand, and the water in the room began to sizzle into steam. She clearly wasn’t interested in speaking, not after whatever had occurred with Desiree, so the Ophelene left her to clean up the damn water and headed straight for her office. 

“I would prefer,” the Ophelene said after she had shut the door and locked it, “if you did not bait my sister.”

Desiree was facing the window, her back to the god. the Ophelene sat on her chair behind her desk, waiting. Desiree eventually drew her eyes away from the scene outside and graced the Ophelene with her gaze. She held a thick folder in one of her hands.

“I did not bait her,” Desiree said.

Ophelene snapped her fingers, and a chair appeared across from her. Desiree sat. It took her far longer than the Ophelene thought appropriate to sigh out apologetically.

“I do not consider speaking the truth to be baiting her,” Desiree said flatly. She placed the folder on the desk.

the Ophelene had to concede that the Laethelia had a complex relationship with facts. Memories of her sister’s face floated to the top of her mind. She grimaced. No, it was more likely that Desiree had said something true and rude. Desiree was excellent at that.

the Ophelene flicked the folder open. Photos scattered out across her desk. She could see schedules, as well, and lists of names. 

“What’s this?”

“People who might have been Alynah’s Companion,” Desiree answered. She took out her phone and was typing away, her attention split. Ophelene bit her cheek. “As well as those who might take her place.”

“Is there any difference between the two?”

Desiree snapped her phone shut. “There are far more spirits who could rise to Alynah’s position. I would like you to find both.”

Ophelene tapped a photo she had grabbed against the desk. She narrowed her eyes. There was no point asking what Desiree wanted once the spirits were found. She resisted sighing. Everyone knew what Desiree wanted, no doubt, and that was going to make the hunt that much harder. People would be hiding, hiding each other and hiding themselves.

“I am looking at the Blakes themselves first,” she told Desiree. She tossed the photo aside. “I’ll look through the rest after, unless you think otherwise.”

Desiree stood. She brushed her skirt clean of non-existent dirt. the Ophelene considered summoning a staff to smack the smaller spirit with. She knew she wouldn’t, Laethelia was truly the only one who she was physical with outside of the duties of her station, but it was nice to imagine.

She might have her expression in control, but Desiree roused irritation in her the same as her sister.

“It would not surprise me if she took a Companion from the Blakes,” Desiree said after a moment. “I would prefer if you found the Companion first. It is likely that they would fill Alynah’s place. At least Alynah was a predictable chaos.”

Ophelene didn’t bother to point out the contradiction.

“Would it be that bad?”

Desiree’s gaze turned sharp. “Ava is bad enough, even with Erann. I do not want to imagine what kind of spirit Alynah bound herself to.” She made for the door but paused before turning the handle. “If your sister is accompanying you today, I would suggest visiting Abel. Having half of the god he oathed to would be useful.”

She left before the Ophelene could point out that Laethelia was not half of the Laetha but her own self. She rubbed a hand over her face. Her eyes fell on some of the spilled photographs. One of the younger Blakes, some twig boy who constantly looked as if he would faint, was being embraced by another boy. They wore the typical uniforms of the School.

There would be little likelihood of his involvement in the current mess. The School would have noticed immediately if he’d entered into the kind of bond Companionship was. And for all purposes he was still a child.

the Ophelene slumped, remembering that most of the Companions were, for most purposes, children. The oldest was a teenager. A teen who had technically been alive longer than the Ophelene herself, but a teen nonetheless.

She might as well take Desiree’s advice and visit Abel. 

When she re-entered the dining hall the water was gone and her students were sitting for a proper breakfast. Laethelia likely summoned them. The sea god was sitting lazily next to Leon, smiling and chattering away as if she had not recently tried to destroy the room. Leon smiled back to her in between bites of fish.

They looked alike when they were this close. Of course, Leon was from one of the Laethelia’s families, an older line that had been oathed to her for decades and decades. Laethelia had decided Leon would be a better fit for the Ophelene, however, and so she’d been saddled with the young man. She had no doubt the Laethelia’s motives were less than altruistic, but Leon _was_ a good fit so there was no point of complaining.

“Laethelia,” she greeted. None of the hostility from earlier remained on her sister’s face. “I’ll be visiting Abel Blake today. If you would like to join Leon and I.”

Leon turned a painful shade of red, and the Ophelene could only guess at his response. Surely the boy knew he was going to accompany her on the majority of these excursions? She’d told him as much. She frowned at him, but his face had only faded to pink.

“I would love to,” the Laethelia said. “Though I suspect you will want to change your wear. Abel is located in the heart of the City, after all.”

It took every single ounce of restraint the Ophelene had not to shudder. Instead, she returned to her rooms and began to prepare.

**July 4th, 1000**

Gods but she hated the City like this. The towers of Aster’s district seemed tiny compared to the skyscrapers that arched above them. Vehicles rolled by on the streets. It was disconcerting to see more vehicles than people, since so much of the City transport was foot travel. 

Everything smelled sterile.

the Ophelene resented thinking it, but the Laethelia and Leon both fit the setting better. They had iridescence to them – for the Laethelia, spades; for Leon, spoonful’s – that shimmered against the overwhelming white and silver scheme for the heart of the City. the Ophelene stood out. 

It may not have helped that she carried a tall staff with her, a knife strapped to her hip.

She was not going to this part of town unarmed, though. Her skin crawled.

“Do you want me to go up with you?” Leon asked. He hesitated to walk up the steps to the apartment tower with them.

“You should come,” the Laethelia said, and when the Ophelene nodded he couldn’t refuse. 

They were greeted by a doorman in a stunning uniform. He bowed deeply to them. the Ophelene just wanted to be in Abel’s apartment. the Laethelia had a smug grin plastered to her face. Leon hung behind them.

“Who are you visiting, holy ones?” the doorman asked.

“Abel Blake,” the Laethelia chirped. “Is he in?”

“No,” the man answered. “You are welcome to wait in his home until he arrives.”

the Ophelene felt her eyebrows arch at that. The security at Aster’s apartment suddenly seemed wonderful.

“I wasn’t aware anyone was allowed to walk into his home,” she said lowly.

“the Clarene requires that any god be allowed entrance when they visit,” the doorman answered. He smiled tightly. “She find that to be the easiest option, considering the schedules of some of our residents.”

There was no point arguing. There was certainly no point arguing with the stone rolling in her gut at the mention of the Clarene’s name. She nodded her acceptance to wait in Abel’s apartment, and they were led through the beautiful lobby into a huge elevator lined with gold. Windows allowed them to see the City as they rocketed up the floors. Leon swayed a bit. the Ophelene braced a hand against him. She felt a bit like vomiting herself. 

The elevator chimed to a stop. 

She had not been sure what she expected, but an entire floor dedicated to one apartment was not it. She refrained from commenting until they spilled into the home, not wanting to hear anything more about the Clarene and the skyscrapers and the City and how her earthy mother operated at the heart of her domain. 

The apartment was appropriately huge. Stairs led up to a loft. There were two immediately visible living rooms, the one welcoming them in with two couches and a coffee table and another tucked under the loft with a giant television hanging from the wall. The entrance bled into the open kitchen, an island the only thing separating it. Absolutely every appliance was high-tech and new. Absolutely everything was spotless.

“It certainly doesn’t appear that anyone lives here,” she commented. The only relief she found was the tall windows that opened to the City below. Being able to see the expanse of buildings, the twirling smoke from the industrial district, the way the edges of the City melded into the wilder, greener areas of the West, was a pleasure she hadn’t expected. the Ophelene rarely flew these days, after all, and her homes were all closer to the ground.

the Laethelia busied herself with a small bookshelf to the side. Black books, or perhaps more like binders, with small silver script on their side were the only reading present. The god opened one and her face lit up in a way that the Ophelene knew to avoid. 

Leon had walked to the windows. He almost touched the glass before thinking better of it.

“Oh, I think Abel lives here often enough,” the Laethelia murmured. She turned mischievous eyes onto Leon. “Come here, you’ll love this.” She waved him over. He reluctantly strode to her, and his face became red again. 

the Ophelene was positive she didn’t want a damn thing to do with whatever was in those binders.

She contented herself with exploring the other living room, not wanting to intrude any farther than required. Gods but the rooms were so bland. There were no posters. No art hung on the walls. She considered turning on the television. She picked up the remote.

The harsh sound of a door swinging open and shut with force rang out through the room. She quickly darted back to the entrance area, remote still in hand, her staff held loosely in the other.

Abel Blake stood before them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sixth months isn't a long time, is it.


	4. Chapter 4

**July 4th, 1030**

Abel was Alynah’s Companion. the Ophelene knew it as soon as she saw him. The knowing was deep in her body. She swore she could hear, in the hidden place where she put her thoughts of Laethelia, Alynah herself cry out.

But Alynah was dead, and Abel was giving the Ophelene a devastatingly bored look. The shock and revelation that had sung out in her were not returned in Abel Blake’s muted yellow-blue eyes.

She might be wrong. Perhaps she was being influenced by the heavy, earthy scent wafting off the boy, a clear sign he was more the _Clarene’s_ spirit than the Laetha’s. It was similar to Alynah’s, though the giant had a far more chaotic and riotous energy to her. Or perhaps it was how the Ophelene had felt her stomach clench in disgust when she first saw the boy, similar to how she felt when she met Alynah. An instinctual rejection. He could have all of those in common with Alynah and not be her Companion. They were part of the same family, after all.

“Abel!” the Laethelia greeted, snapping the binder in her hands shut. the Ophelene was yanked from her reprieve. “What a pleasure to meet you in person.”

“Holy ones,” Abel intoned. He neither bowed nor inclined his head. “We’ve seen each other at the festivities."

the Laethelia swept over to Abel, and her wispy height accented Abel’s stockiness. The boy had a thin torso that flared into wide hips. He hid his body in a dark turtleneck and jeans. He gazed up at the Laethelia through thick square glasses.

“We’ve not properly met, though,” the god protested. She offered a handshake.

Abel lifted up the shopping bags in his hands. Books rustled against each other. the Ophelene snorted softly. He certainly had the same irreverence that Aster carried. Aster was on the whole much laxer and easy-going. She could see how tightly Abel held himself.

“If I may put these away,” Abel said, but he had already begun walking toward the loft. His eyes caught on Leon. “And who might you be?”

“Leon Laylock,” he stuttered out.

Abel did incline his head toward Leon. the Ophelene leaned on her staff, chucking the remote back at the far couches. Abel showed more deference to Leon than he had to the gods. That was new. She’d never encountered any spirit with that level of irreverence.

Or maybe it was simple dislike.

The apartment smelled different now that Abel was present. Even Laethelia, who wasn’t attuned to the same energy the Ophelene was, could no doubt sense the change. Like cinnamon and nutmeg, like the wind at the start of winter.

Abel smelled like Reunion, just like Alynah had. He dressed like it was Reunion instead of the middle of summer and Hell Month. Even as he came back down the stairs he had only swapped his original black turtleneck for a sleeveless black turtleneck. His arms, like his face, were splattered with freckles.

He paused near the end of the stairway, gazing down at his guests. the Ophelene wanted to snort again. He was short enough he probably wasn’t able to look down on people the usual way.

“Shall I make coffee?” Abel offered. As he swept down the final steps and motioned to the kitchen the Ophelene looked at his wrists.  
They were completely bare. Maybe a Companion sigil had faded when Alynah died. There were no scars or imprints of magic, though.

“Coffee would be lovely! Do you have an espresso machine?” the Laethelia inquired. the Ophelene nodded her interest. She breathed in meditatively. The magic might not be obvious, but if she could peer further into Abel’s soul she should be able to see any traces.

“I do,” Abel replied. “What would you like?”

“Oh, have Leon help you, he knows what we like,” the Laethelia said.

the Ophelene felt herself tugged briefly from her meditative state; Laethelia was antagonizing Leon at this point. She shouldn’t be surprised. Her sister did enjoy causing a certain amount of discomfort. Now that she could see Leon’s response the Ophelene knew what the blush across his face meant.

Abel gestured for Leon, and the boy tripped over his legs to follow Abel into the kitchen. Their small chatter filled the apartment. The space was coming to life. The sounds of the espresso machine, the clatter of utensils, the smell of coffee – the Ophelene let herself drift back into the calm state she had felt.

Magic lit up like fireworks around Abel. She could see Leon’s energy too. Her student had thick ribbons of black and purple around him, a significant sigil on his back, and glowing bubbles floated about his crown. She knew what magic Leon had, though.

Abel’s energy was a cacophony. With these eyes she could see past his exterior, pulling away his skin until his core remained. The clear underbody of an Aletheia radiated at his center. Nothing new there. But the amount of sigils and buzzing bees was abnormal. He had a sigil at the nape of his neck, and another symbol on his palms, though that was fainter, and his hips were swirling with charms. The only part of Abel that wasn’t enchanted, cursed, or blessed was his glasses.

Glasses he didn’t need, the Ophelene realized.

Though Abel kept his focus on the sandwiches he was preparing, the Aletheia core in him titled its neck backward and looked straight at the Ophelene. She snapped back to her regular awareness and shuddered.

“That’s what you get for snooping,” the Laethelia quipped from the couch. She motioned for her sister to join her. the Ophelene collapsed next to her and clutched her staff, placing it between them.

“It’s my job to snoop,” the Ophelene protested. She loosened her grip on the staff and let it smack into her sister’s shoulder. “I’ve never met an Aletheia that wasn’t active.”

Abel set the tray of sandwiches and pastries on the coffee table with more force than strictly necessary. Leon set down their drinks before hovering around them, unsure where to sit as the gods did not leave much room on the sofa.

“Sit with me,” Abel said. Though they maintained a healthy distance Abel slung his arm on the back of the couch and conveniently and accidentally brushed her student’s back. Leon sat stiff as a rod. “Do you have need for an Aletheia, holy one?” Abel said. His eyes were on his coffee but the Ophelene knew if she gazed at his soul again that damn Aletheia would be staring her through like a lance.

“No,” she said. Her voice was rougher than she intended.

“What need do you have, to have visited me?” Abel pressed.

Leon was sipping his coffee with exceptional speed.

“These sandwiches look lovely,” the Laethelia cooed. Her attempt to diffuse the tension in the room went unnoticed.

“I have _need_  to speak with you about your niece,” the Ophelene bit out. Gods but the boy was getting under her skin just like Alynah had, except Abel had no good reason to rub her so. Even if he was her Companion, he would have been restrained when Alynah lived. He certainly could not have raised the hell the giant star spirit had.

“The coffee is delicious too!” the Laethelia attempted again.

“The same niece you murdered?” Abel outright baited her. the Ophelene let her staff drift toward Abel, leaning forward herself, ready to strike.

the Laethelia’s high, crackling laugh punctured the air and the tension flooded away.

“Alright then!” the Laethelia cried. “Wow, what a start. Didn’t even let us enjoy the food you made.”

Abel fell back, cowed. It was only as he nodded apologetically to the Laethelia that the Ophelene realized his eyes had shifted. When he’d been confronting her his eyes had blazed gold. Now they were that muddy color she’d first seen.

Desiree had given good advice. the Ophelene’s skin prickled. If there hadn’t been someone there to stop them – and Leon would not have been able to – she was certain she would have come to blows with the young Blake.

He was too much like Aster. Abel acted as though he were older than the Ophelene, more experienced and well-lived. Aster at least had his multitude of lives and aborted deification behind him. What did this upstart have? He lived in the coveted heart of the City because the Clarene favored him and placed him there. He had the easy celebrity of his name and family.

He hadn’t done a damn thing worth acknowledging.

“My apologies. It was a long day at the Feathers,” Abel said. He picked up his coffee for the first time. “Aithne has the schedule completely packed.”

This boy in front of her had not attained his position through hard work. He’d tripped into it through the blessings of those around him. All he used, all he _had_ , was sex appeal (and the Ophelene had never understood that). The thought of it made the Ophelene gag.

Alynah had been arrogant and obnoxious, but she was a leader. She never hesitated to take action. She ran to the front lines and commanded. the Ophelene might not have agreed with half of what the giant had done, but she had respected her.

Could Alynah really have taken Abel as a Companion?

“We did want to speak of Alynah,” the Laethelia prompted, much softer and sweeter than the Ophelene could be. “Were you aware your niece had a Companion?”

“Did she,” Abel said.

“Of course, considering she is no longer with us, my sister and I are concerned for that spirit. We all know how Companions can get when they’re without their giant half.”

Abel leaned against the back of the sofa. “Do we?” He turned toward Leon. “How do they get?”

“Well, when Ava was without one,” Leon explained, “she went on rampages throughout the Laetha’s home. The rumors say she killed any man she set her eyes on.”

“I suppose Erann is lucky he got off with only losing two wings,” Abel said.

Was the boy taking any of this seriously? Did Alynah’s death not touch any part of him?

“What do you plan to do with her Companion?” he asked, his tone conversational and open.

the Laethelia looked at her sister. the Ophelene watched Abel patiently. He didn’t break.

“That’s to be decided,” she answered honestly.

Though she wasn’t gazing at his soul, she could feel an unraveling about Abel. His shoulders relaxed. The rolling waves of resentment and anger smoothed out.

“That’s how it goes,” he said with a shrug. “I can’t tell you much about Alynah. She spent most of her time harassing me. Aeron, the youngest of us, got the worst of it.” He hummed softly around his cup. “She almost killed him a few times.”

“Geez,” Leon murmured.

“She didn’t like how much attention he was getting,” Abel replied to Leon. His expression opened up far more when he faced Leon than when he looked at either god. the Ophelene almost expected him to smile. “Alynah was always like that. She was the center of everything, anyone else be damned.”

“Didn’t she only get angry when he was stealing _your_ attention?” the Laethelia commented.

the Ophelene realized Desiree may have suggested the Laethelia for more than the surface reasoning, and the Laethelia may well have her own reasons for meeting Abel.

Abel winced slightly. “She was especially vicious when she felt I was focused on him, yes,” he conceded.

“Did she ever work at the Five Feathers?” Leon asked.

Abel shook his head. “No. She wouldn’t be expected to anyway. She was named into this family by Althea Altair. There was no need for her to undergo any of the training the rest of us did.” His face sharpened with shrewdness. “Alynah was more about the raw passion of sex than the polished pornographic version we make at Feathers.”

“Anyway,” the Ophelene interrupted, her voice unusually loud.

“So you slept with her?” the Laethelia pushed.

“Okay!” the Ophelene yelped before Abel could answer, though judging by his furrowed eyebrows he would have protested the question as well. Her staff nearly clattered to the floor before she retook her grasp of it. “That’s not something,” she began. She was going to say it wasn’t relevant to the discussion, but it was. Everyone seemed sure that Alynah had slept with whoever her Companion was. But by all the holy gods and her esteemed mother, the Ophelene did not want to know anything more about Abel’s sex life.

“You can’t deny she was flirtatious with you,” the Laethelia said, not yet ready to back off the topic.

Abel lifted an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “She was flirtatious with most living creatures.”

“Did you like your niece?” the Laethelia asked. the Ophelene felt as though the conversation was being yanked back and forth. A headache was breaking across her temples.

“I don’t have any particular feelings about her,” Abel lied. It was such an obvious lie that the Ophelene was shocked he would even attempt to pass it off. He grimaced. “That’s not quite right. I didn’t particularly enjoy being around her.”

“Did she enjoy being around you?”

“How should I know her feelings?” Abel shot back. A thread of irritation came out in his voice. Whatever had cowed him when the Laethelia first began interrogating him was falling away.

the Laethelia shrugged elegantly.

“Were you her Companion?” Ophelene asked. Enough of this dance. The coffee cups were empty, the pastries only crumbs on the silver plates, and she was tired. Being around Abel was tiring.

Abel laughed without humor. “Companions are magically powerful spirits,” he said, rising. He held his hand out in an obvious position for casting a summoning circle. “The bond can’t be made without that, right?”

He flicked his wrist and a casting circle illuminated around his arm, glowing bright and red, and the Ophelene felt the tightening of the air in the room, and then –

Nothing. The spell fizzled and left smoke in its wake.

The boy may have been covered in blessing and curses, but the Ophelene had to admit she hadn’t sensed his own energy beyond the thrum of his Aletheia body. That Aletheia form wouldn’t have been strong enough to require a Companionship on its own.

“I didn’t realize,” Leon mumbled. Abel shifted toward him.

“My other skills are more valuable to me,” he said, as if his own lack of magical power was as normal as being able to sing instead of paint. “I am quite good at what I can do.”

the Ophelene stood, tapping her staff to the floor.

“We should take our leave,” she said. “We’ve bothered you long enough.”

Abel’s look conveyed agreement but he kept his lips shut. He saw them to the door, shutting them out the instant he had given Leon a pleasant farewell.

the Ophelene glanced out the single window at the end of the hall. The sun hung high in the sky, glaring through the glass, washing out everything more than it already was.


	5. Chapter 5

**July 4th, 1600**

Neve Winter was a miniature Ophelia. Her hair was cut at her shoulders, but it was just as dark and straight as her mother’s. Her eyes were deep pools that drew souls in. Every curve and angle was a perfect imitation of the holy river god.

At times the Ophelene wondered if the Ophelia had given so much of herself to Neve that she had no more to spare for the rest of her children.

She swallowed the resentment down as the car pulled up to the barracks. Neve sat ramrod straight on one of the benches outside the entrance. Her Companion, Casimir, was sparring in the dusty ring with a few of the Ophelene’s students. Leon leaned forward to peer out the window.

“Casimir!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t know he was visiting.”

the Ophelene nodded. She’d expected a visit from the two spirits after she had met with Aster. Neve was nearly impossible to meet with otherwise, hiding away in ice castles or illusions. Aster would have called his sister and let her know the latest drama, though.

The car shuddered to a stop.

Casimir lifted up one of the students and bench pressed the poor girl. Neve clapped at the display.

“Oh, he’s so strong,” Leon said wistfully as he opened the door and allowed the Ophelene to step out. She shielded her eyes to the sun. The strong scent of dry dirt filled her nose. “Can I go spar with him?”

“Go on, go on,” she said. She smacked her cloak with her staff, distracted and eager to get the smell of the City out of her clothes. Leon leapt on Casimir’s back. The giant spirit didn’t even look behind himself. He grabbed Leon’s arm and swung him down with one fluid motion that took out another fighter.

There was laughter in the middle of the scuffle.

There was even deeper laughter from near the doorway of her barracks. the Ophelene frowned at the man standing beside Neve, his bulky form leaning against the wall. He resembled Casimir, but his hair was sandy and his eyes were blue and his clothing far too fancy.

“Erann,” she greeted. He turned his perpetually laughing eyes to meet her. “Neve.” She nodded to the teenage-bodied spirit.

Neve rose and bowed deeply. “Aunt Ophelene.” She wore a beautiful light blue gown. A gust of cold wind blew from her as she stood up. Ice crystals were gathered around her ears and neck where her hair shielded them from the sun. the Ophelene felt a familiar thick protectiveness well in her, sticking to the roof of her mouth. Neve should be inside, nestled in some lavishly decorated room and supplied with anything she desired.

“Neve,” Casimir called, jogging up to them. Leon was slung under his arm like a bag. The boy had a look of bliss on his face. The other girl who had been Casimir’s main sparring partner was heaved over the giant’s shoulder and similarly pleased. “Drop your gaze.”

Neve inclined her head and obscured her face with her hair. The overwhelming desire to _protect_ and _indulge_ ebbed away. the Ophelene put a gentle hand on the girl’s arm. It wasn’t as though she could control that magic. It was what had led Aster to be so devoted to her when the two were first born, and the same magic that was eventually twisted to make him want to kill her again and again in their dream world.

“So bossy,” Erann commented. As always, his voice was thick with mirth.

“Holy one,” Casimir bowed just as deeply as Neve had. He dropped her students as her feet, each of them squawking. Though he tried to hide it, the Ophelene saw the smirk Casimir gave them.

“Oh god,” Erann followed in greeting.

“Don’t say it in that tone,” the Ophelene chastised. She lifted the useless children at her feet into her arms. Leon was giving Erann a heated, suspicious glare. “Get everyone inside,” she told them, “and ready dinner. I won’t be joining you tonight.”

They slipped out of her hold and gathered up the rest of the Order, and the Ophelene trusted them enough to turn from them and face her guests.

Casimir had crept closer to Neve, towering over her like a shield. Neve was shifted in front of him just slightly, her eyes still averted toward the ground. Erann stood taller even than Casimir, but hunched over to obscure his height. His black suit attempted to hide more of him from observant eyes.

“I’ve come to discuss with you,” Neve said. She picked up a small picnic basket laid near the bench she’d rested on. “And an offering.”

“You don’t need to offer anything,” the Ophelene said honestly. She pushed Neve’s outstretched gift back lightly. Neve’s hands were cold and sharp, like an ice pick. “Your presence is gift enough.”

Neve flushed and bowed deeply, again. When she looked up again she was more composed, her face schooled in a neutral, pleasant mask. “Thank you. I will cherish your words.”

Erann stretched, loudly, and stepped in between them. He gave the Ophelene a crooked grin. “If I may,” he said, “I would prefer to have this conversation somewhere more comfortable.”

“I have an office you can wait in,” the Ophelene offered. She met Erann’s eyes evenly and dispassionately.

Neve and Casimir coughed.

“Where is the mermaid god? I can smell citrus,” Erann commented.

“She returned home. Perhaps she could sense your presence before I did.”

There was a beat of silence, and then Erann burst out laughing. His face was full of genuine humor, the emotion scrubbing part of his glamour away. His sharper, more masculine face shown through.

“You are _so mean!_ ” he cried. “I’m here to help, you know.”

the Ophelene snorted. Neve clutched her picnic basket. Casimir rolled his eyes.

“Would you prefer inside or outside, Neve?” the Ophelene asked. The girl turned her eyes to the sun, squinting.

“Inside is preferable.”

Erann murmured a low quip about melting and earned himself a smack from Casimir.

the Ophelene lead them through the halls of the barracks. Neve strode just behind her, keeping up with the god’s longer strides easily. Casimir and Erann hung behind, grumbling at each other and drawing the gazes of the few members of the Ophelene’s Order that walked through the halls.

She caught a few of her students gazing at Erann with a purple sheen to their irises. They would pierce through his glamour and then jump back, instinctively, while Erann continued speaking and walking, completely unaffected. She couldn’t blame her student’s terribly. She herself had been reminded not to snoop with Abel.

Her earthly mother had warned her once to never peel back an illusion if one wasn’t ready for the truth beneath.

Abel was one matter. She’d seen Erann unveiled once before. It was enough.

She swiftly typed in the passcode for one of the more private rooms in the mansion, breathing out in relief when it beeped happily at her. It had been a while since she had need for the privacy the three spirits near her would require. She shoved the door open and flicked on the lights.

Erann whistled. “Wow. Very nice.”

The room _was_ rather lavish. Dark purple fabric hung from the walls, and the ceiling was enchanted to show a moonless, starry night sky. There was a low table in the center for dining. A silver tray sat in the middle of it, equipped with all the proper tools for ritual. The lighting was soft lanterns floating near the walls. They cast just enough light that one wouldn’t have to strain their eyes.

Neve sat down at the table and began unpacking the food she had brought. A large loaf of bread, a variety of fruits, a carton of light colored juice, chicken legs coated in dry rub, and jerky. the Ophelene should have expected the jerky. Casimir had told her, during one of the days he reminisced and _shared_ his reminiscence, that jerky had been one of the staple foods of the North-South. Neve had apparently kept her taste for it.

“What type is it this time?” Erann asked. He didn’t sit, only leaned over Neve and grabbed a slab of the meat.

“Oh, it’s just beef and turkey,” Neve said with a wave of her hand. “We know you don’t enjoy the taste of elf.”

Erann had to spend minutes sucking on the jerky before it was soft enough to bite through. “It’s not about enjoyment. I won’t try to understand how you can eat your own kids.”

“Descendants,” Neve and Casimir chimed in sync.

“Well, thank you for not bringing _elf_ jerky,” the Ophelene said, sitting opposite the small group. Casimir and Erann remained standing. Casimir she could understand; the boy was obsessed and fervent in his duties toward Neve and wouldn’t sit until she explicitly told him he had to.  
Erann, though…

“Ava prefers that I stand,” he answered, catching her eye. “Habit, now.”

She didn’t respond. She savored the taste of the chicken instead.

“Aster told me that Alynah was a Companion,” Neve said after dabbing a napkin at her lips. the Ophelene nodded. “You’re looking for the spirit she bound herself to?”

“Yes. Considering the nature of Companionship…”

Erann let out a low, long laugh. “And considering Alynah herself, no doubt.”

“Yes,” the Ophelene confirmed.

Casimir snapped off a bit of jerky between his teeth, grimacing. the Ophelene suspected he was not grimacing at the toughness.

“This is the first time an actual Western fairy took a Companion, isn’t it?” Erann said. He tossed a commiserating glance at Casimir. “I’m not native, and Casimir is Casimir.”

“How polite,” Casimir grumbled as Neve smiled at Erann. the Ophelene couldn’t disagree – Casimir was himself, not quite Western and not quite elf and certainly not anything or anyone else.

“Do you think that will impact the bond?” Neve asked.

Erann shrugged.

“Do you think she bonded with a Laetha?” the Ophelene pressed, leaning forward.

“Considering Alma would be the only one available, no,” Erann replied. His tone was far drier and darker than usual. He smacked his chest and coughed as though food had caught in his throat. “Ava would have tattled on another Laetha anyway.” _At the least_ hung in silence, but everyone knew that Ava wouldn’t have stopped at just tattling.

Neve shook her head in agreement. “Maybe she took an Aletheia.”

“Not a divine one,” Erann countered. “The rest of the ‘droids would have chittered about it the same day.”

“What about an unholy Aletheia?” the Ophelene asked.

Erann frowned, a clear sign he was thinking seriously. the Ophelene relaxed her shoulders. She’d assumed Erann had joined the little group simply to pester and harass, in the friendly way he did, but he was as much a Companion as Casimir. His insights, were he to give them honestly, would be just as valuable.

“One of the active Aletheia couldn’t hide it,” he announced with a nod. “But if an Aletheia were getting out of hand their Odile would just show up. They don’t need Companions.”

“You’re sure of that?” Casimir asked.

Erann nodded again, but he rolled his eyes for show as well.

“What about an inactive Aletheia? Like Abel Blake,” the Ophelene threw out.

Abel’s display of impotent magic had left an impression. But the boy hadn’t outright denied he was Alynah’s Companion.

“Inactive Aletheia are basically different people,” Erann said, his voice definitely rougher. “I mean, sure, the Aletheia would still be bound up in the Companionship, but. No, I don’t think the rest of the ‘droids would care or notice.” He tilted his chin up. “You think _Abel_ bound with Alynah?”

Casimir grunted in doubt. “How Alynah bound herself to anyone is beyond me.”

“Casimir,” Neve snapped out, casting a fierce, frigid glance at her Companion. He crossed his arms.

From Erann’s wide, open expression, the Ophelene suspected he had never seen the two fight before either.

“Whoever the Companion is,” the Ophelene brushed aside. “With you here, you wouldn’t mind sharing more about the bonds you’ve formed?”

Neve nodded and motioned for Casimir to sit. He knelt beside her, his back facing the Ophelene, and Neve gently swept back some of his hair from his neck.

A sigil similar to the one marking Alynah’s wrist was painted there. Three eyes sat beside each other in the orb, wings flaring out. Casimir’s wings were more feathered where Alynah’s had been leathery and bat-like. The trailing legs of the symbol were far longer on Casimir as well, swirling around the bump of his spine as it slid past his shoulders. the Ophelene reached for the sigil. Neve bowed her head, and the Ophelene placed gentle fingers on it.

Casimir hadn’t been marked when she was training him. And Alynah’s had been the only Companion mark she had seen up close. The chaos spirit’s mark had been raised, almost like a scar. Casimir’s was perfectly smooth like a tattoo.

She jumped slightly as Erann knelt beside her. His suit jacket was slung over his arm, and his tie and shirt open to expose his chest. His own mark rested over his left breast. Just above his heart, the Ophelene noted. One single eye sat vertically in his circle. His symbol had a sharpness to it that even Alynah’s had not possessed.

“She may have just become a Companion,” Erann answered her query concerning the tattoo-like quality of the marks. “Or she may have just been fed recently.”

“I hate that term,” Casimir said lowly.

Erann gave a winning smile. “She may have just had energy forced into her, then. The texture of the Companionship doesn’t matter so much.”

“And the variations?” the Ophelene considered.

Erann stood and began buttoning his shirt. “Those could mean anything. You’d have to ask the Companion themselves to know anything.”

“Wonderful.” the Ophelene faced Neve again. “Do you have a mark?”

“No,” she answered. “There’s no need. _I_ don’t need to control Casimir.”

“They’re for control?”

Casimir and Erann nodded, heavy in their gesture.

Neve extended a hand, and a casting circle like Abel had summoned appeared above her palm. The smell of ozone filled the room. She breathed deeply, clicked her fingers, and then –

Casimir’s mark glowed bright and black.

An eye appeared above Neve’s magic. The smell and power of it disappeared. Neve was exceptionally pale, almost translucent.

“You didn’t need to do that,” Casimir chided. He clapped a hand over his neck and the eye hovering around Neve slid shut into nonexistence. The girl slumped. Casimir caught her. Her breath puffed out in visible ice crystals. Her hands trembled.

“It absorbs a significant amount of energy,” Erann explained, watching the Ophelene’s brows furrow. “It’s intended to stop any further attacks the spirit might make.”

Casimir made to pick Neve up into his arms, but she shoved away as forcefully as she could. She couldn’t have truly resisted yet Casimir let her be all the same.

“It goes off around _any_ energy?” the Ophelene gawked.

Casimir grimaced. Neve pushed away from him again, more confident in her movements. She fussed with her hair and clothes as though they’d been dirtied.

“Neve was just displaying. She was using…” Casimir trailed off.

“I utilized a kill spell,” Neve said neutrally. the Ophelene frowned sharply. “I knew Casimir would stop it. I didn’t have it directed at anyone, besides.”

“That makes it twice as dangerous,” Casimir mumbled. He shook his head at his ward and shifted to speak with the Ophelene, his face harder and more drawn than she had seen in years. “I mean no offense, but you are sure that she had a Companion mark?”

“Casimir,” Neve hissed.

“Yes,” the Ophelene answered. She tapped her own wrist. “It isn’t an easy image to forget. I wouldn’t have seen it if her jacket hadn’t been shredded during our fight. Why do you ask?”

Casimir rose, partially to escape the firm pinch Neve attempted to give him. “I simply find it difficult to believe a giant like Alynah could bond with anyone. Considering her…personality.”

the Ophelene didn’t respond to that.

Neve, however, did. She rose to stand close to Casimir. She was dwarfed by his height but gave him a glare that rivaled the Ophelia’s when dealing with some of the Laethas. That she had to stand on her tiptoes to even properly look at Casimir’s face did take away some of the levity.

“We have talked about this.”

“You’ve talked about her Companionship?” the Ophelene interjected. But the two spirits were thoroughly wrapped up in each other, and she wouldn’t be able to pry them apart for anything.

“Alynah was horrid and violent,” Casimir practically spat. “ _She_ was the one that needed reigning in. How she could even find someone to bond with her is beyond me.”

“ _Beyond you_ indeed,” Neve did spit out. “Are you honestly saying she made the bond herself? You know what it requires.”

“She could have manipulated someone,” he retorted. “Some unsuspecting, needful soul that would have been better off – “

Neve pointed to the door, and her face did not allow for any further argument. Casimir drew himself up, tense and quivering, but he huffed and left the room after a moment. Neve exhaled and put a hand over her chest.

“My apologies.”

Erann placed a hand on her arm. “Shall I go with him?”

the Ophelene winced. With Erann’s glamour it was as though a copy of Casimir had slid into his place. But with the other giant absent that same glamour was sliding apart like wet paint in rain. In a few minutes he would have adopted his typical appearance, and were she to glance away it would feel as though he had always appeared that way.

“No, you’re fine, thank you,” Neve assured.

“I’m surprised he had it in him to disagree with you,” Erann commented.

the Ophelene silently agreed. She had assumed that Casimir bent to any and all of Neve’s whims. She hadn’t taught him to be so submissive, but there were traits that would be pointless to try to expunge. She had only tried to craft him into a sturdier stone than he began as.

“He always does on matters I would rather he didn’t,” Neve said wryly. She bowed toward the Ophelene. “I didn’t mean to ignore you earlier. We did discuss Alynah’s Companionship, once Aster told me of it.” Her lips twisted. “He’s too damn romantic about the bond.”

the Ophelene ate another chicken leg and waited. Neve’s eyes had a hazy blue tint to them. She would be easier to get information from if she was left to her own musings at this point.

“She had to have been scarred by whoever made the bond. A severe scar, too, not something you can just wave your hand and heal away. Whoever gave it to her had to have _meant_ for it to stay.”

the Ophelene did not miss how Erann reached back and touched his shoulder blades. If she were correct in her count, he was down to two pairs of wings thanks to Ava. And Alma, the only one who could have healed him, had refused on account of the wounds necessity. Whether Erann had known he needed to be maimed beforehand, the Ophelene didn’t know.

“And what do we know about Alynah anyway?” Neve went on. “We know her as the spirit of chaos, as the leader of the Rabbit Troupe, as Alynah Blake. We call her Alynah but we all mean the full name.”

the Ophelene tilted her head inquisitively.

“Do those who know you as the god of retribution know the entirety of you?” Neve asked as way of explanation. “Do those who know you as Ava’s Companion know the entirety of you?” she directed at Erann.

The answer was obvious enough neither needed to speak.

“Exactly. Exactly that. Casimir thinks I’m wrong, thinks that what we saw was all there is. He thinks only an altruistic soul could become a Companion. But he’s wrong. He’s wrong. A Companion takes on their ward’s energy and magic and even has the force of that personality baring down upon them. They have to know who they are, completely. Casimir couldn’t have become my Companion without your training.”

True enough, though the Ophelene wasn’t so comfortable stating it.

“And, Erann, you wouldn’t have been able to take Ava if not for, if not for – “

“Neve, love,” Erann interrupted. He gave a gentle, true smile as he put his hand on her shoulder. “What are you trying to tell us?”

The girl spluttered for a moment before regaining her bearing. “Holy one,” she said. She shook herself. “Aunt. Please, believe me in this. Whoever defends Alynah fiercest, whoever knows her truest, whoever believes in her goodness beyond all sense, _that_ is who she bound herself too. Beyond anything else. I swear it. I know it. I can feel it in my bones.”

“Would you know him if you saw him?” the Ophelene asked.

Neve withdrew slightly.

“Not even Ava could tell just by sight,” Erann said. “It would only be obvious if Alynah had just eaten. Whoever dumped their magic into her would be out of commission for a few days.”

“How so?”

Erann waved an easy hand. “Oh, they could walk and talk as normal. But they couldn’t spell any damn thing to save their hide. I never leave Ava’s side once she’s expelled her soul into me.”

the Ophelene’s vision went dark. She could hear her breath and heart beat, pounding loudly in her ears. She could see Erann brush back Neve’s hair, his lips moving as he no doubt advised that they had lived out their welcome and should be moving on, and she could see Neve nod. Her body stood and she saw them out to where Casimir waited. Her former student’s face was schooled back into a deferential expression. He bowed to Neve and bowed to the Ophelene and the giants escorted the teen spirit out to their waiting vehicle.

She felt her nails digging into the palm of her hands.

Whirling, her cloak snapping behind her, she resolved to visit Abel again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which there is much talking. The next chapter should have some action or at least more active-ness than currently. Neve, Casimir, and Erann all showed up this time. I'm not sure if they'll appear again for this story. Perhaps Casimir, since the Blakes are more descended from him and Aster than Neve...but perhaps not, since he tends to only go where Neve goes. Figuring out how to characterize the Ophelene's and Erann's interactions was probably the toughest thing. She doesn't dislike him, but Erann is a certain sort of person that pings a lot of her untrustworthy buttons.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings for non-consensual sexual interactions, though nothing 'goes anywhere'.

**July 5th, 0945**

“Stop!”

the Ophelene froze the instant she walked into Abel’s apartment. He wasn’t yelling at her, she realized soon enough, but the scene before her was arresting.

Abel was splayed out on his couch, his shirt lifted to his shoulders. His messy hair was even messier. He was heaving. And his restrained arms were pushing against another person, a much younger person if their outfit was any indication. An opened button-up white shirt and undone black bowtie signaled the other boy was a student at the School. Whether he was the Clarene or the Dierne’s was a toss-up until the Ophelene spotted the silver earring dangling from one ear. That boy’s hair was mussed from its braid, and his blue eyes were wide with shock.

He was straddling Abel, his own pant’s fly open, his arms pressing Abel into the couch.

What an absolute failure of an initiate. the Dierne would have been mortified.

“Is there a problem here?” the Ophelene asked. Her eyes flashed. There were the burns of restraint charms hovering around Abel’s wrists. She breathed in an uncommon sort of fire. Her stomach roiled.

“No,” Abel breathed. He shoved the younger boy off of himself and yanked down his shirt. “No, there’s no problem.”

The boy was spluttering uselessly, not even attempting to dress himself.

the Ophelene met Abel’s eyes and knew him for a liar. He knew he wasn’t truly hiding what had been happening. the Ophelene could smell it in the damn air. Faint but nauseating, the scent was one she left to the Dierne or Ava or Alaria or the Centries to pursue. Now she was standing in it, the knowledge of what had happened slick and low in the room. If she wanted she could gather it up into a physical force and confront the still-spluttering boy with it.

“We were just,” Abel paused to swallow. “We were just role – just role playing.”

The way the other boy froze like a deer in headlights conveyed how much bull shit _that_ was. the Ophelene turned the full weight of her title and name on him with a look.

“What is your name?”

“Kallan,” he stuttered. He was undoubtedly beautiful, she noted, in a painstakingly prepared way that only became more beautiful the less control he had over himself. Except now. In another situation he would probably be stunning to behold. As it was, his manicured eyebrows and his delicately painted face, all of it screamed of the same spoiled privilege that had led him to this horrid situation with Abel. the Ophelene needed to know what the damn boy had been thinking.

She didn’t _want_ to know a damn thing about it.

“Do you have a family name?”

“Enough,” Abel said. He wrapped an arm around Kallan’s shoulders. Kallan winced, hard enough to shake the couch. “I told you. We were just messing around.”

The charade was adding to her sickness. the Ophelene bent down and touched a palm to the carpet of the apartment, letting the energy in the room coalesce around her hand before standing.

“You can go wait in the lobby,” she told Kallan. “Do not leave until I come to fetch you.”

“He’ll leave right now,” Abel hissed. He shoved Kallan off the couch. The boy stumbled and flinched back from the Ophelene, and she wasn’t one bit sorry for that. “Go back to the School, Kallan. _Now_.”

“Excuse me,” the Ophelene protested. Abel stood, and though he was tiny – shorter than Kallan and much shorter than a god – his fight was obvious and stubborn.

“I am his guardian, and I am telling him to go back to the School. Where he should have been already,” he said snappishly at Kallan. Kallan’s head was bowed so far all the Ophelene could see was his hair. “Dress yourself and go back.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Kallan mumbled. Diamonds fell from his face. That was enough tell of his family without the boy saying anything. “Abel, I didn’t, I’m sorry, I couldn’t, it’s just, please – “

Abel grabbed Kallan’s arm with bruising force. It smelled like the heat from an oven. “Go back to the damn school,” he said.

the Ophelene made to stop him as he headed out, but Abel stepped in between them.

“Leave him the hell alone.” His voice, like his eyes, like his body, was dangerous. He reminded her starkly of Alynah, when the spirit had decided to take some threat or danger seriously and plan its eradication. the Ophelene had rarely seen Alynah like that. She had never seen anything Alynah decided to _annihilate_ again. The giant had truly embodied the word. “He’s a damn kid,” Abel muttered after Kallan slammed the door.

“Do you think I don’t know what was going on?” the Ophelene bit out. “I am not an idiot.”

“Could have fooled me,” Abel sneered.

the Ophelene had dealt with a great deal of insult. From the moment the Laethelia and herself had sat down at their divine seats among the gods she had dealt with all manner of them. It was partly the burden of a god. It was partly politics. Desiree’s baiting and bossiness were the least of it. Plenty of spirits disliked her. She disliked plenty of spirits. And some spirits were simply not reverent, like Aster. It took all sorts.

But she had never been insulted in such a bald-faced fashion. Abel, she realized, was _just_ an asshole.

“I must have forgotten some wrong against you,” she growled lowly, “for you to feel the need to speak to me so.”

“Maybe I just don’t,” Abel’s throat caught. He swallowed again, his face twisting unpleasantly. “Maybe I just don’t like you.”

She crowded him against the door. His back hit it with a satisfying _thud_. “Why don’t you say what you’re really feeling?”

He was breathing as fast as he had when she had interrupted the scene earlier, but his eyes were far more hateful. They had been murky blue-yellow while he was struggling with Kallan. They blazed now, as they had the day before. Even his hair seemed brighter, redder, as if he were being lit from within.

“…leave Kallan alone,” he finally muttered. He dropped his gaze to his feet. “He’s just a kid. He’s just wound up and wanted to take it out on someone.”

“That makes it okay?”

Abel’s brows furrowed. “Just drop it. He didn’t mean anything. Nothing would have happened.”

“Something was in the _middle_  of happening,” she retorted.

Abel ran his hands through his hair, tugging hard and pulling strands out. “Stop. Just stop. You’re not helping.” He held a hand out toward her. “And give me that energy back.”

She didn’t make a move.

“It’s from my damn house, give it back to me.”

She dropped the crystalized cube into his hand. He crushed it, body sagging against the door. The energy didn’t flood the room as expected. It simply vanished into Abel, as though he had siphoned all of it away.

He pushed past her to collapse on the couch. There were no offers of coffee or tea or cookies forthcoming, she knew. She would have to stay here through force of will alone. The same roiling nausea that had struck when she first came in flared again. Holy hells but she would have preferred anything else. the Dierne was so much better at this sort of thing.

But the Dierne was gone.

“Are you going to keep giving me that, that f-freaking stare?” Abel asked. How he knew what kind of stare she was giving him, what with his head tilted back against the couch and his eyes shut – but then she remembered the Aletheia core inside of his external shell. It must have been watching her. “I don’t need your pity.”

“You’re quite protective of that boy,” she commented.

Abel choked, likely on his own spit. “He’s my ward. It’s my fault he even thought he could do that.”

“I wouldn’t expect his family to leave him in the responsibility of a spirit like…yourself,” she said delicately. She could see the Llewellyns sending one of their precious daughters to a proper Residence, even the Five Feathers Residence itself, but putting one of their children under the care of Abel Blake begged belief.

“His, well, ugh,” Abel grunted. He sat up and shook his head, his hair becoming even wilder. “The one that was supposed to take care of him left.”

She raised an eyebrow. “So they left him to you?”

Abel pursed his lips. “Call it punishment.”

“I certainly hope Kallan doesn’t know you feel that way.”

“ _I_ don’t feel that way,” Abel said through every single one of his clenched teeth. “It’s as much a punishment for him as it is for me as it is for. All of us.”

“Touching, really, but if I find him doing that again I’m taking half his magic and burying it in the holy one’s Orchard so the trees can eat it.” Abel punched the back of the couch at her words. “I am serious, Abel Blake. You’re lucky the Dierne isn’t here.”

“the _Dierne_ wouldn’t have done shit.”

She sucked down the desire to strangle Abel then and there. The desire was as foreign and new as Abel’s behavior. Her fingers itched and twitched with the want to grab him by the neck and press him against a wall and make him respect her, she was a god, damn it, and he was just some obnoxious boy from some big-name family that coasted on that fame and goodwill and hid away in his tower in the heart of the City and –

She had not come here to argue senselessly with him. She firmed her stance. Her hands went to her cloak to unlatch it.

“Did I invite you to stay?” Abel said. His voice was soft and pure fire, like a fireplace dying out before a new log was put on.

“I’m afraid I have to,” the Ophelene said. She held the freed cloak for a moment before flicking her wrist and vanishing it back to her home closet.

Abel bounded over to her in remarkably large strides. He didn’t remain on equal footing. He launched himself to the couch closest to the Ophelene and stood on its back, jutting his face into her own. The energy he had consumed wafted off of him. The foulness of it had been converted to the wonderful aura of warm winter fires.

“Your hypocrisy astounds,” he ground out.

“Pardon?” she shot back.

Abel laughed in her face. Her heart thudded, and she nearly smacked her chest. Just a moment ago she’d been contemplating how vile this boy was, and now her heart was performing somersaults? the Ophelene considered the need to see a healer, and soon.

“You get all bothered by Kallan shoving me around, but you shoving me around is all fine and dandy. Let me guess.” His eyes crinkles with restrained glee. “For the _greater good._ ”

the Ophelene lashed out before she could stop herself. She didn’t even bother manifesting a weapon. She just swung with a claw.

 _Go for the face,_ a voice sung inside her. _He’ll hate that the most._

Her skin felt taut, like there was string tied around her joints.

Abel ducked.

He slammed his head into her chin. She felt the sharp tang of copper as her teeth cut the inside of her cheek. She grunted and stumbled back. Abel nearly knocked over the couch with his movement, but he yanked himself back just before toppling.

“That’s better,” he goaded, and his grin was mean and gleeful and wide enough it looked like his cheeks hurt. “That’s more like it.”

“More like what?” the Ophelene spat out.

“More like a god,” Abel answered nonsensically.

the Ophelene wiped at her mouth. “I know you’re the Companion, Abel. And I know you fed Alynah before she died.” Abel shifted his weight, his face not giving an inch away. the Ophelene wished, briefly, that study at the School did not include the more martial of arts. Abel was clearly familiar with combat. Hand-to-hand combat, though, so it was possible that if she manifested a weapon she could incapacitate him for a short time. “Just admit it.”

“Why should I tell you anything?” Abel asked. His voice was as thrilled as his expression. “I don’t have to admit shit.”

She snapped her fingers and swung with the staff that appeared in her hand the next instant.

Abel dodged, but she was faster. She spun the staff and knocked his back hard enough he finally fell from the couch. He made to stand. She jabbed him in the chest, hard.

Hard enough for him to have been pushed onto his back, surely. But he merely fell onto his ass and gave her a toothy look.

“You’re really no different from Kallan, you know,” he said. “You both want something from me I’m not going to give you.”

the Ophelene breathed steam from her nose. “I want you to tell me the truth, _Aletheia_ ,” she said, dragging his true name out.

Abel grabbed her staff. His arm splintered.

She tried to pull away instinctively. But his hand – now far too small and feminine for the rest of his body – held on immovably. The splintering raced through the rest of his body.

the Ophelene had seen non-active Aletheia transform before. They shed their glamored selves in gold glitter bombs and shot off like bullets to whatever had caught their eye. They were gaudy in their transformations.

Abel’s body shuddered and simmered and split and then he was gone. Small bursts of electricity traced his skin where he was transforming. It was like watching a billboard sign flick from one ad to another.

Aletheia 059’s lithe body took form. The bodysuit covering the majority of the wired organs wrapped around like paper mache. His orange fire hair bloomed around him, brushing his shoulders and tickling the android’s cheek bones.

When he opened his eyes, they were the pure gold that every Aletheia had.

Zero-Five-Nine tightened his grip on her staff and she felt lightning streak through it, nearly zapping her before she released the weapon. The Aletheia twirled it and – he was swinging a mallet now, one that the Ophelene knew was far too heavy for him to sensibly use. But if he did swing and make contact it would break a few bones at best.

“You want the truth?” Aletheia cried. There was no mirth in him now.

She fell back as he swung at her side, aiming to take out her ribcage.

Aletheia 059 was just anger. A distilled type of rage that exploded out and transformed everything he touched.

She twisted her fingers to ignite another manifestation circle. The magic sputtered and faded. She spared an incredulous gasp at her own energy.

Zero-Five-Nine laughed, and it was nothing like Abel’s laughter. It was so much worse.

“You’re in my world now,” he said, tilting his chin up with a patronizing sneer. “You want the truth, oh holy one?” He swung again. She barely dodged in time, the gust following his mallet just as dangerous as the weapon itself. His metallic hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her close.

She prepared a punch.

“Aletheia don’t need our magic to work,” he said.

He was taller than her now. He was looking down at her. She shook her head. That was impossible. He hadn’t tugged her down to some submissive position. He was just, he was just taller and growing taller by the second, but Aletheia couldn’t regulate their bodies like that.

“It’s innate ability,” he continued. “To each of us some precious ability, gifted from that oh so holy Clarene. Or is it the Laetha? Oh, who cares!” He laughed shrilly.

She tried to stand, but her legs wouldn’t work. She blinked. Her vision wasn’t working. None of her visions were working. The world was blurring black and white and grey. The skyline outside the window was melting and reforming at an alarming pace. She tried to touch her own face. Her hand felt as though it passed through her nose.

Abel-Aletheia 059 was gone, but his voice bounced off the walls of his disintegrating apartment.

“Have fun,” he crooned. The sound of a door slamming reverberated through the space.

It felt like hours later that the horrendous illusions and visions flickered out and she sunk into sweet, blessed darkness.


	7. Chapter 7

**July 8, 0815**

The fallout of Abel’s curse was deeper than the Ophelene could have foreseen.

For one, she was lying in bed, _still_ , in one of the Laethelia’s hospitals. Healing homes, the Laethelia had corrected, but if it smelled like a hospital and had beeping machines like a hospital and white-clad healers came in when the Ophelene tried to stand and walk too much just like in a hospital, it was a damn hospital.

It wasn’t the Clarene’s capital-H Hospital, no. But the Ophelene wanted to bury knowledge of that horror show deep in the ground. Maybe one day she could bury that Hospital underground too, once it had outlived its purpose.

Another unexpected result of Abel’s curse was the flaxen haired boy sitting next to her bedside, wearing the typical bland uniform of the School of Eight Initiates. The younger, possibly youngest, Blake: Aeron.

The boy had not left her side since she had woken in the Laethelia’s hospital, and his sea-blue eyes had rarely left her face. Normally she would have dissuaded a spirit from lavishing obvious awe onto her, but Aeron’s face was open like a children’s book. He may have worn the Laetha’s red tie around his neck, but he was not accustomed to actual reverence. His reaction the first day she had met him proved that.

“Lady Ophelene!” he’d exclaimed, and his voice had been thick with his accent. He was from near east Fairy, a fact that only stuck out in her mind upon hearing him speak. The Blake family head had given some excuse about the slice of Blake that had formed into Aeron floating out of the West and off on its own into the worlds. Aeron had been trembling and his eyes teary as he bowed to her. Why he was so afraid when she was barely able to push herself up on the hospital bed was not so much confusing as disheartening.

He had bowed a lot those first few hours.

But he was sitting calmly now and even gave a tremulous smile when she met his gaze. He deserved to feel some warmth from a deity. the Laethas could burn all they wanted. Sometimes one needed the warmth of the earth and soil.

Or a pair of arms around them. Like the unexpected embrace she had wrapped Aeron in after he had explained everything. Abel had been long gone by the time Aeron had made his way to the apartment, but the boy had took swift action at seeing the Ophelene’s state. Nothing horrific or embarrassing, Aeron had assured her, but he had seen Abel’s Aletheia ability before. He had stayed with her until the matching Odile android – Odile 60 – arrived and broke the spell.

He had stayed with her through that hellish nightmare, and the boy was clearly starved for affection. She could spare a hug.

Those were the easiest parts of the fallout. The rest had been loud, busy, and crowded.

Aeron stirred himself up from his seat and turned the volume of the television down. He gave the Ophelene an apologetic nod.

“Visitors will be here soon,” he said to the floor. the Ophelene suspected _that_ habit was older than the Laetha’s training. He acted often as though he had grown with his face pressed to the boot of someone, never able to lift his head properly. It made her stomach clench. Laethic training would only exacerbate that, she knew. “I’ll return with tea and snacks.”

She watched him duck through the doorway. He was tall, and his body already held the edges of being a giant. He wasn’t quite wide enough, and he was lanky and uncertain of himself. But Casimir’s blood that breathed in the Blake line was strong in Aeron. the Ophelene knew he would take to his gentleness. His compassion.

Her sister swept into the room the moment Aeron was gone.

“Finally,” the Laethelia exhaled.

“Be nice,” the Ophelene shot back. She reached for the newspaper rolled on one of the bedside cabinets but the Laethelia smacked her hand away. “El,” she whined.

“You’ll be getting enough news in a few minutes. I want to be with you without the Blake around.”

the Ophelene frowned. “He’s a good kid.”

“And a kid indeed,” the Laethelia pointed out, plopping herself on the bed. She wrapped a long arm around the Ophelene’s shoulders. She pressed a firm, insistent finger to Ophelene’s forehead.

Heat flooded the Ophelene, and a few seconds later the Laethelia nodded and drew away. Normally she would have simply leaned back.

She rose completely off the bed and sat on a chair.

the Ophelene told herself that didn’t sting. But she deserved it, at least a little. After all, when she had first seen her sister after waking from Abel’s illusions, she had flinched back as though the _Laethelia_ had been the one to cast the curse.

It wasn’t Laethelia’s fault she had been the near-constant star of the Ophelene’s torment. the Ophelene doubted even Abel had cursed her to imagine her sister specifically. He had probably just tried to force her to experience whatever she felt most devastatingly or painful. And of course the Laethelia was the star of that show. Of course.

the Laethelia was staring at an enchanted window that showed the seaside. She shook herself roughly and then stood, swift and sharp, and sat back down on the bed. the Ophelene eyed the clock hanging above the door.

“We need to talk about what you experienced,” the Laethelia murmured, hot and quick under her breath. “You’ve recovered fair enough considering everything, but if we don’t talk about what happened…”

“Yes?” the Ophelene prodded.

the Laethelia let loose a gusty sigh. She gazed pleadingly up at the ceiling, but the Ophelene knew it held no answers for either of them. “I’ll be upset. And I’ll be distracted. Please. Lee, please.”

Her sister wasn’t looking at her, but Ophelene knew it was for her own sake. Laethelia’s eyes would be too full of unshed tears and unvoiced hurt if she were to look now. And the god was crafty, certainly, but there were lines of manipulation she hated crossing.

“I’ll recover fine, though?” the Ophelene asked.

“ _Lee_.”

Aeron walked in right then, a silver tray in his hands. A spindly teapot sat alongside cups and a variety of teas ready to be steeped. He bowed low and long at the Laethelia. She rose with a grace that had been previously absent and stuck herself to the boy’s side.

“Sweetie,” she greeted, just as sweet. She pecked his cheek and set his whole face turning dangerously red. “Thank you for all your help.”  
Aeron just spluttered.

“You’re favored by my sister, so you are favored by me,” the Laethelia explained. the Ophelene rolled her eyes. Every time the Laethelia had actually interacted with Aeron she had been extraordinarily friendly. Her viper-like attitude about him in his absence was likely exhaustion at putting up such a show.

Or maybe not a show, the Ophelene though as she saw the Laethelia touch Aeron’s hair before bidding them farewell. She had the same eyes for him that she had for Leon and the rest of the Laylocks.

Aeron shook his head as he set the tray on the dresser near the door.

“What is it?” the Ophelene asked. Aeron jumped.

His cheeks were flushed guiltily now. “I simply don’t… Um, how should I say this. I don’t understand why so many people are touching my hair all the time,” he said as he tugged a strand of it.

If the Laethelia were there she would make a teasing comment about the boy’s hair being lovely and hard to resist, but the Ophelene was not her sister. The truth could be more uncomfortable anyway.

“Hair holds power,” she explained. “Surely you were taught that in School.”

Aeron nodded, turning his back to her as he prepared the tea. the Ophelene realized he had brought a french press as well and leaned back into the pillows of her bed, pleased at the thought of coffee.

“I’m a few years from graduating,” Aeron commented, “but I learned about that when they. When Miss Altair cut my hair the first day.”

“And that caused you to feel differently, didn’t it?”

Aeron’s shoulders lifted up to his ears. “I am simply not understanding why the _touching_ is necessary.”

the Ophelene snorted. “Most other Courts are more physical than the Laetha’s. Touching is a sign of trust and affection and much else.” She nearly mentioned Delicacy before her teeth caught her tongue. Better not.

From the way Aeron’s shoulders were trying to lift past his head, she didn’t need to mention the Dierne’s Court aloud anyway. Aeron’s mind was already on his counterpart in Delicacy, the one he had been assigned his first year at the School: Kallan.

She scrubbed a hand over her face. What a mess the Blakes were.

She lowered her hand right as Leon strode in to the room. Aeron met him with a cup of tea and a bow that Leon returned. Aeron shifted to stand by the doorway while Leon stood near the Ophelene’s bed, eyes hard as steel.

“How is the Order?” the Ophelene asked.

Leon handed her a thin sheaf of stapled papers and drank his tea. “Mireya and I have ceased the excursions into the wilds around the barracks. The edge of the West has begun to melt again.” His tone was bland, as if he were reading the tail end of the evening news. “We conferred with Mallory and her spirits. We do not believe it will encroach on the actual barracks. Even if so, it would be later in the month.”

the Ophelene flicked through the reports he had brought. As expected, the Centries were becoming more active. Hell Month was finally stirring nerves. At least the incidents so far only required mediation.

There was still no mention of Abel’s whereabouts.

“I hope Mireya and yourself have a plan if I am not out of this place by then,” she commented distractedly. Leon didn’t respond, so she looked up at him. “Or if I’m otherwise occupied. We do not know how long this Companion business will take.”

“I thought it was near resolving,” Leon said stiffly. the Ophelene set the papers down on her lap and took in her student’s stance.

“Does that upset you?”

Leon swallowed audibly. “I understand the necessity of it.”

His meaning took a beat to filter through her mind. She waved a hand quickly, shaking her head before a stinging pain reminded her to stop. “I have not decided on what to do about the Companion.” She knocked her fingers against the side of the bed. “Do not assume killing is our first option.”

Leon had to restrain himself to keep from ducking his head, she knew, from the way his neck tensed and his jaw clicked. “I was considering what he did to you.”

Aeron, bless the boy’s heart, became very interested in a spotless corner of the room. Leon at least was able to meet her gaze. And she suspected he had been angling to get _laid_ if Abel was not the Companion. The events of the past few days no doubt rankled.

“If I thought it was necessary to kill him,” the Ophelene said, “I wouldn’t be hiding what he did from Desiree, would I.”

Leon nodded, but none of the stiffness had left his body. “Should we be hiding it?”

“Of fucking course you should,” came the chiming, disastrous voice of the Dierne’s Right-Hand.

“Language!” the Ophelene protested. Lilibell didn’t deign that with a response, instead sweeping into the room with her twin. They wore matching skirt-suits, black and red respectively, and both were ready to – well, the Ophelene wasn’t quite sure, but she felt it involved skyscrapers and office meetings.

Aeron not only bowed but raised his pressed palms to Althea Altair. Althea, amazingly, raised her own hands back to him before closing in on the boy and whispering in his ear. He nodded obediently. Althea was one of the leaders at the School, though, so he had likely grown somewhat accustomed to her presence.

Lilibell swung a hand on her hip and stood alongside Leon, practically shoving the boy out of her way.

“Noted one,” he greeted. Aeron began passing out food and drink, but Lilibell refused. Althea gave her twin a tight-lipped stare. “I am aware the Clarene and Dierne do not get along.”

“This has nothing to do with getting along,” Lilibell interrupted. Leon was murderous. Considering that either he or Mireya would become Right-Hands in the future, and he could possibly be Lilibell’s equal, it was understandable. “Desiree is all numbers. She isn’t going to care about the why, or how, or any of it. She sees Abel as the Companion, she finishes the equation, we get another dead Blake. And you know what else we get?”

“What?” Leon asked darkly.

Lilibell opened her mouth, and she had fangs. Never a good sign. She was getting defensive, protective.

“Desiree will punish anyone who knew about Abel,” Althea said, joining the little group. Lilibell’s mouth shut with a clack. “How far that punishment goes depends on what her equations tell her.”

“How many people knew about Abel and Alynah, honestly? As more than rumors,” the Ophelene pointed out. “Rumors are a dime a dozen. Those two had more rumors than news trailing behind them.”

Althea gave her a frigid, pale stare. “Aster lied to your face when he said he didn’t know who the Companion was,” she said tightly. the Ophelene clenched her fists and jaw.

“Did _you_ know?” she asked, just as tersely.

“No.” Althea’s answer was clear and rung with truth that hung in the room like the morning light. “But Aster must have. He is Abel’s programmer. His exclusive programmer. The moment Abel went in for maintenance Aster would have noticed the change.”

“Why would he lie?” Leon snapped out. He checked the clock and ran a hand through his hair.

“Desiree wants to _kill the Companion_. Which means _killing_ Abel.” Lilibell glowered at Leon. “You would hesitate telling her and you barely know the man. Aster is his parent, and Abel rescued him from that shit show he was trapped in.”

“ _Language_ ,” the Ophelene warned.

“Your own god doesn’t want to tell Desiree!” Lilibell practically yelled. The whole room flinched. She sunk inward and shut her eyes, face wavering on the edge of a deeper emotion. “…fuck,” she breathed. the Ophelene didn’t feel the need to berate her again. “I’m sorry. I just think we’re making the right choice.” Though she wasn’t turned toward him, her words were angled at Leon. “Desiree jumps too easily to death as a solution to all of her, all of our problems.”

Having his ego smoothed over, Leon bid them all farewell. He had to be back at the barracks before trouble brewed or his absence was noticed by someone who wouldn’t keep their tongue.

Lilibell faced the Ophelene head on, her stance all business. “Abel’s at the Five Feathers,” she said, voice clipped.

“Well, that’s good. We can gather him and bring him here,” the Ophelene said.

Lilibell grimaced unattractively. “Not good. Aithne isn’t a, uh, fan. Of us.” She gestured to her twin.

the Ophelene pinched the bridge of her nose. “Why?”

“Well, we named our daughter after the Blakes. Without their, ah, explicit permission.”

“So the person who controls the entire building we need to get into…wants nothing to do with the two of you?”

Lilibell tilted her head and scuffed her shoe. “To put it lightly. I mean, it was thanks to Alynah that” –

“This will work to our benefit,” Althea interrupted. She motioned for Aeron to step forward and, with no warning, pulled his ribbon undone from his hair. It fell past his shoulders in a _thwump_. “My sister and I can distract good Aithne while you look for Abel.”

“Miss Altair, what do I have to do with this?” Aeron asked, voice trembling as much as his hands.

“You’re our distraction.”

Aeron slumped, loosing at least a foot of height, but the Ophelene nodded. Better to not give Abel any warning they were coming. She wasn’t ready to hand him over to Desiree yet, but she was ready for another bout. the Laethelia had promised her a way to resist Abel’s damn curse. However he fought, she was prepared.

If she felt a little bad for selling out Aeron, well, she could make it up after the affair was over with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we get closer to the conclusion of the Companion half of this fic. Fighting between Abel and Ophelene! Desiree shows up again! Is she really as awful as they say she is? (Kinda, sorta, but not really.) And we get a scene in the Five Feathers and meet Aithne, which means we'll have covered the 'main Blakes'. Maybe Kallan will show up again.


End file.
